I  APR  4  1899  ^ 


183 


BV  4211  .T82  1898 
Tucker,  William  Jewett 

-1926.  ,  . 

The  making  and  the  unmaking 

of  the  preacher 


THE  MAKING  AND  THE 

UNMAKING  OF  THE 

PREACHER 

ttctmt0 

ON  THE  LYMAN  BEECHER  FOUNDATION 
YALE  UNIVERSITY,  1898 

BY 

WILLIAM  JEWETT  TUCKER 

PRESIDENT   OF    DARTMOUTH    COLLEGE 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

1898 


COPYRIGHT,    1898,   BY  WILLIAM   JEWETT  TUCKER 
ALL   RIGHTS    RESERVED 


TO 

THE  YOUNG   MEN 
WHO   HEARD   THESE   LECTURES 


CONTENTS 

LECTURE  PAGE 

I.  Preaching,  under  Modern  Conditions  .      i 
II.  The  Making  of  the  Preacher  by  Edu- 
cation      31 

III.  The  Unmaking  Process     .        .        .       .61 

IV.  The  Preacher  and  his  Art  ...        90 
V.  What    the     Preacher     owes    to    the 

Truth 116 

VI.  What  the  Preacher  owes  to  Men     .      145 

VII.  The  Pulpit  and  the  Church   .        ,        •  169 

VIII.  The  Optimism  of  Christianity     .       .      198 


THE 

MAKING   AND    THE    UNMAKING 
OF  THE   PREACHER 


PREACHING,    UNDER   MODERN    CONDITIONS 

Each  new  incumbent  of  this  Lecture- 
ship can  but  feel  the  increasing  stringency 
of  the  situation.  Twenty-five  courses  of 
Lectures  on  Preaching  have  now  been  de- 
livered on  the  Lyman  Beecher  foundation. 
Doubtless  one  who  ventures  upon  another 
course  may  count  upon  the  good  will  of 
his  predecessors,  but  he  quickly  learns  that 
they  have  done  nothing  to  lighten  his  task, 
but  rather  everything  in  their  power  to 
make  it  difficult.  The  one  source  of  in- 
spiration and  courage  to  each  Lecturer,  in 
his  turn,  is  the  presence  and  cooperation 
of  men,  who,  in  their  turn,  have  come  to 


2  PREACHING 

feel,  in  the  separateness  of  their  own  first 
experiences,  something  of  the  responsibil- 
ity and  joy  of  preaching.  I  thank  you, 
therefore,  for  your  assuring  welcome. 

Allow  me  an  opening  word  in  regard  to 
the  significance  of  a  subject  in  such  a 
course  of  lectures  as  that  now  before  us. 
A  subject,  to  borrow  the  homely  analogy 
of  our  Lord,  seems  to  me  to  be  like  "  the 
leaven  which  a  woman  took  and  cast  into 
three  measures  of  meal  till  the  whole  was 
leavened."  It  is  the  idea,  the  personal 
idea,  which  one  casts  into  the  common 
stock  of  opinions  and  experiences  and  be- 
liefs, and  it  is  to  be  measured  altogether  by 
its  quickening  and  pervasive  force.  It  is 
not  good  as  a  subject  beyond  its  power  to 
leaven. 

I  am  proposing  to  speak  to  you  about 
The  Making  and  the  Unmaking  of  the 
Preacher.  That  is  my  subject.  Outside 
its  reach  I  have  nothing  to  say  about 
preaching.  My  subject  places  us  in  the 
discussion,  as  you  see,  under  the  limita- 
tions of  the  personality  of  the  preacher. 
We  are  also  to  remember  that  it  gives  us 
the  freedom  of  his  personality. 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  3 

How  shall  we  really  put  ourselves  within 
so  great  a  matter  as  that  of  preaching? 
Where  is  the  point  of  reality  ?  I  know  of 
no  place  where  one  may  so  certainly  expect 
to  find  it  as  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
preacher.  Around  him  and  above  him 
stretch  the  vast  ranges  of  truth.  They  all 
contribute  something  to  his  message.  Be- 
fore him  is  the  common  humanity.  No- 
thing which  belongs  to  that  can  be  alien  to 
him.  But  neither  truth  nor  man  has  any- 
thing to  do  with  preaching  until  each  has 
found  the  rightful  place  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  preacher. 

Here,  then,  you  have  the  method  as  well 
as  the  reason  of  my  subject.  I  am  intent 
upon  finding  out  and  taking  the  measure 
of  those  forces  which  are  steadily  at  work 
toward  the  making  or  the  unmaking  of  the 
preacher,  because  they  are  actually  deter- 
mining at  any  given  time  the  value  of 
preaching.  Some  men  are  preaching  bet- 
ter at  forty  or  at  sixty  than  when  they 
began;  others  are  not  preaching  as  well. 
The  unmaking  process  is  going  on  side  by 
side  with  the  making  process.  Some  of 
the  forces  which  are  acting  in  either  direc- 


4  PREACHING 

tion  are  altogether  personal ;  others  are 
too  general  to  be  of  much  account.  We 
say  that  there  are  preaching  ages,  ages 
which  furnish  at  once  the  message  and 
the  listening  ear.  We  say  that  there  are 
ages  which  are  lacking  in  stimulus  and  in 
response.  I  think  that  we  make  far  too 
much  of  these  contrasts.  I  believe  that 
it  is  one  part  of  our  business  to  reduce 
these  variations  to  a  minimum.  If  there 
is  anything  which  should  move  on  from 
generation  to  generation  in  the  consist- 
ency of  power,  though  it  should  be  as 
flexible  and  elastic  as  the  spirit  of  man, 
it  is  the  Christian  pulpit. 

I  do  not  propose  to  enter  into  any  defi- 
nitions of  preaching.  These  have  their 
legitimate  place  in  the  class  room.  But 
having  chosen  a  subject  which  lays  the 
stress  so  largely  upon  personality,  I  can- 
not afford  to  pass  by  the  question  —  Who, 
under  present  conditions,  is  the  Preacher  ? 
I  address  myself  to  the  answer  of  this 
question  in  the  opening  lecture. 

There  are  a  great  many  ways  in  which 
we  can  discriminate  the  preacher  from 
other  men  of  like  general  aims  or  meth- 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  5 

ods.  We  can  say  that  he  is  like  this  man 
in  the  use  of  method,  though  unlike  him 
at  every  other  point;  or  that  he  is  like 
that  man  in  the  object  which  he  seeks  to 
accomplish,  though  unlike  him  in  other  re- 
spects. Let  us  make  no  account  of  these 
likenesses  or  contrasts,  but  rather  try  to 
find  what  is  necessary  to  enable  one  to 
meet  the  present  conditions  of  preaching. 
Whether  the  preacher  has  much  or  little 
in  common  with  men  of  like  callings  is 
for  our  purpose  a  matter  of  indifference. 
How  shall  we  name  the  preacher  of  to-day 
by  his  actual  work  ? 

It  may  not  be  saying  the  greatest  thing, 
but  it  is  saying  something  very  much  to 
the  purpose,  as  I  conceive,  when  I  insist 
that  the  preacher  of  to-day  is  the  man  who 
is  able  to  enlist  other  men  in  his  work  of 
persuasion.  He  is  the  man,  that  is,  who  is 
able  to  make  his  audience  preach  with  him 
and  for  him.  Jesus  alone  with  the  woman 
at  Jacob's  well  was  the  preacher.  Paul  and 
Silas  were  preachers  in  the  jail  at  Philippi. 
But  they  were  not  preaching  under  modern 
conditions.  An  essential,  one  is  tempted 
to   say,  a   supreme   condition   of  modern 


6  PREACHING 

preaching,  is  an  audience.  Modern  preach- 
ing is  so  far  conditioned  upon  an  audience 
that  the  argument  for  the  pulpit  above  the 
press,  as  an  agent  for  the  effective  commu- 
nication of  truth,  rests  very  largely  upon 
this  condition  as  a  premise.  Why  should 
a  man  go  to  church  when  he  can  stay  at 
home  and  read  a  sermon  ?  Put  aside  the 
necessity  for  worship,  and  what  answer  can 
you  make  ?  It  is  hardly  safe  to  risk  the 
argument  upon  the  assumed  advantage  of 
the  spoken  above  the  written  word.  That 
advantage  depends  upon  the  effect  of  the 
spoken  word,  not  simply  upon  one's  self  as 
an  individual,  but  also  upon  the  whole  body 
of  which  he  is  a  part.  It  is  indeed  quite 
conceivable  that  the  spoken  word  may  find 
a  lodgment  in  the  heart  of  one  hearer, 
when  all  others  are  untouched.  The  writ- 
ten word  usually  has  a  better  fortune.  But 
the  highest  efficiency  of  the  spoken  word 
may  be  far  above  that  of  the  written  word. 
The  power  of  preaching,  I  insist,  that 
which  is  natural  and  legitimate  to  it,  is 
the  power  to  reach  the  one  through  the 
many.  It  is  the  power  to  bring  the  con- 
senting  reason    and    the   awakened    con- 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  7 

science  and  the  kindled  emotion  of  the 
whole  to  bear  upon  every  part.  You  can 
easily  test  this  principle.  You  find  your- 
self in  an  inattentive  congregation,  or,  if  it  is 
formally  attentive,  unawakened  and  unkin- 
dled.  The  state  of  that  congregation  is  a 
hindrance  to  your  reception  of  the  truth. 
You  expend  a  good  part  of  your  power  of 
reception  in  resistance  to  the  general  indif- 
ference. You  find  yourself  in  another  con- 
gregation. The  mood  is  eager  and  expec- 
tant. The  congregation  knows  the  preacher 
and  is  ready  for  him.  Before  he  has  uttered 
a  word  you  are  in  a  measure  committed  to 
him  through  those  who  have  learned  to  feel 
his  power. 

Every  person  who  attends  church  may 
be  made  to  answer  a  twofold  purpose.  To 
the  degree  to  which  he  is  receptive  he 
thereby  becomes  influential.  He  is  a  com- 
municating force.  In  fact  he  may  actually 
communicate  more  good  than  he  receives. 
I  doubt  not  that  in  every  congregation  ^ 
there  are  those  whose  chief  virtue  lies  in 
the  fact  that  through  their  quick  sensibili- 
ties they  are  distributing  agents  of  the 
truth. 


8  PREACHING 

It  is  this  possibility  of  using  men  as  his 
allies  in  the  interest  of  righteousness  which 
constitutes  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of 
the  pulpit  to  men  of  what  is  known  as  pop- 
ular power.  There  is  a  true  philosophy  in 
the  vulgar,  commercial  test  of  a  preacher, 
—  "  Can  he  draw  ?  "  Drawing  men  means 
that  the  preacher  is  utilizing  them.  They 
may  not  be  conscious  of  it.  Some  of  them, 
if  they  knew  it,  might  deny  the  fact.  Still 
the  fact  remains.  It  is  the  reason  for  their 
presence. 

If  you  ask  me  in  what  this  power  of  the 
preacher  to  utilize  an  audience  consists,  or 
why  it  is  that  one  man  can  make  an  audi- 
ence preach  with  him  more  than  another, 
I  do  not  intend  to  be  beguiled  into  any 
detailed  answer.  The  personal  gift  which 
is  usually  offered  in  explanation  of  per- 
sonal power  is  always  insufficient  and 
often  misleading.  But  I  will  give  one  an- 
swer, without  prejudice  to  what  I  may 
wish  to  say  hereafter,  which  seems  to  me 
to  be  most  inclusive.  The  power  of  a 
preacher  to  reach  the  individual  through 
the  audience  is  usually  in  proportion  to 
the   depth  and  breadth  of  his  humanity. 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  9 

The  great  preachers  have  various  personal 
characteristics.  Some  have  humor,  and 
therefore  pathos,  and  others  have  neither. 
Some  are  men  of  presence,  others  are  not. 
Some  speak,  others  read.  Some  are  think- 
ers, others  speak  to  the  limit  of  the  last 
thought.  But,  without  an  exception,  all 
within  my  knowledge  who  stand  the  test 
of  compelling  others  to  join  with  them  in 
their  work  of  persuasion  are  men  of  tre- 
mendous humanity. 

What  do  we  mean  by  humanity  when 
we  apply  it  as  a  quality  to  the  individual  ? 
Certainly  it  is  something  very  different,  as  a 
qualifying  term,  from  the  adjectives  which 
come  out  of  the  same  root.  To  say  that  a 
man  is  human  is  to  suggest  some  weakness 
or  fault,  on  which  we  look  with  leniency,  if 
not  with  tenderness.  We  like  to  draw  our 
great  men  a  little  nearer  to  us  on  the  com- 
mon ground  of  shortcomings  and  imperfec- 
tions. It  was  not  on  the  whole  an  unplea- 
sant discovery  when  the  American  people 
found  out  that  Washington  had  a  vigorous 
vocabulary.  And  when  we  go  a  step  further 
and  say  that  a  man  is  humane,  we  simply 
apply  to  him  a  term  of  advanced  civiliza- 


lo  PREACHING 

tion.  We  mean  that  he  has  the  great  qual- 
ities of  justice,  tolerance,  and  charity.  But 
when  we  speak  of  the  humanity  of  an  indi- 
vidual, we  refer,  I  think,  to  the  amount  of 
human  nature  which  is  to  be  found  in  him. 
It  is  a  word  of  amplitude,  a  term  of  inclu- 
siveness,  standing  over  against  everything 
which  is  narrow  or  hard  or  thin,  as  well  as 
against  mere  artificiality  and  conventional- 
ism. We  naturally  turn  for  our  chief  ex- 
ample to  that  great  impersonality,  Shake- 
speare, who,  however  elusive  he  may  have 
been  in  himself,  held  in  his  imagination 
every  type  of  human  nature,  and  whose 
creations  are  therefore  as  secure  in  the  life 
of  the  world  as  are  the  men  of  its  own  his- 
tory. Or  we  turn  to  our  own  Lincoln, 
whose  personality  when  measured  at  this 
point  seemed  almost  as  great  as  that  of  the 
nation.  I  doubt  if  the  national  conscience 
ever  carried  a  heavier  burden  of  justice 
than  that  which  weighted  his  soul.  Recall 
Emerson's  word  about  him,  spoken  at  Con- 
cord on  the  day  of  his  burial,  —  "  He  is  the 
true  history  of  the  American  people  in  his 
time.  Step  by  step  he  walked  before  them, 
slow  with   their  slowness,  quickening  his 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  ii 

march  by  theirs,  the  true  representative  of 
this  continent,  an  entirely  pubHc  man, 
father  of  his  country,  the  pulse  of  twenty 
millions  throbbing  in  his  heart,  the  thought 
of  their  minds  articulate  in  his  tongue." 

Humanity  then,  according  to  our  under- 
standing of  it,  is  something  quite  beyond 
any  of  the  terms  which  are  identified  with 
it.  It  is  in  every  way  to  the  advantage  of 
the  pulpit  that  ministers  are  now  under- 
stood to  be  human.  When  it  was  ac- 
cepted as  a  qualification  for  the  ministry 
that  one  was  not  a  man  of  like  passions 
with  others,  or  when  the  ministry  itself  was 
considered  as  offering  special  exemptions 
from  temptation,  it  must  have  been  a  terri- 
ble ordeal  to  preach.  I  cannot  conceive 
how  a  man  could  stand  in  the  presence  of 
his  fellow  men  and  speak  right  out  the 
words  w4iich  should  fall  into  the  midst  of 
temptation  and  struggle,  and  at  the  same 
time  feel  that  his  words  might  stir  the 
question  in  any  man's  heart,  —  what  do 
you  know  about  it  all.f*  where  are  your 
temptations  ?  Let  us  be  thankful  for  the 
recognition  of  the  human  in  the  profession 
of  the   ministry.     And  of   course  it  goes 


12  PREACHING 

without  saying  that  ministers  are  supposed 
to  be  a  humane  class,  notwithstanding  the 
occasional  bloodthirstiness  of  the  pulpit  in 
times  of  national  excitement. 

But  the  humanity  of  the  pulpit,  its  power 
to  cover  in  thought  and  feeling  the  life  be- 
fore it,  to  stand  for  the  common  nature,  to 
be  so  far  able  to  represent  men  that  it  can 
turn  them  to  its  own  uses,  that  is  something 
which  waits  full  recognition,  because  it  is 
something  which  needs  to  become  more 
evidently  the  fact.  I  was  careful  to  say 
when  I  began  to  speak  about  this  matter, 
that  the  ability  of  the  preacher  to  make 
other  men  help  him,  to  make  his  audience 
preach  for  him,  might  not  be  the  greatest 
condition  of  modern  preaching  which  one 
has  to  satisfy ;  but  the  more  we  dwell  upon 
what  this  ability  implies,  the  more  we  shall 
be  disposed,  I  think,  to  advance  the  claim. 
Nothing  can  be  more  fundamental  to  the 
preacher  than  his  humanity.  There  lies 
the  priestly  quality  of  his  life.  And  just  as 
the  wants  and  desires  and  aspirations  of 
men  go  sweeping  through  his  humanity 
when  he  intercedes  for  them  with  God,  so 
through  that  same  channel  God's  message 


MODERN  CONDITIONS  13 

returns  to  them.  Preaching  at  its  best  is 
prayer  turned  round.  "  Now  then  we  are 
ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did 
beseech  you  by  us :  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God." 

It  may  seem  to  you,  however,  that  I  put 
myself  on  clearer  and  firmer  ground,  when 
I  say  that  if  one  is  to  satisfy  the  conditions 
of  modern  preaching  he  must  be  able  to 
show  that  he  has  a  sufficiency  of  truth  in 
actual  command.  Of  course  this  means 
the  authority  of  the  pulpit.  I  desire  to  say 
with  the  greatest  possible  emphasis  that 
modern  preaching  waits  the  word  of  au- 
thority. There  is  a  good  deal  of  preaching 
which  is  not  modern,  which  uses  the  author- 
itative language  and  tone.  On  occasions, 
as  it  passes  into  controversy,  it  deals  in  ana- 
themas. But  these  are  manifestly  futile. 
An  assertion  of  authority  which  wakens 
the  protest  of  the  devout  reason  or  reverent 
scholarship  of  an  age  fails,  because  it  lacks 
one  of  the  chief  elements  of  authority. 
Authority  cannot  rest  upon  the  impossible 
or  the  unreasonable,  or  upon  what  may  be 
to  most  minds  the  merely  external.  When, 
therefore,  men  of  recognized  spiritual  power 


14  PREACHING 

choose  to  plant  themselves  upon  the  liter- 
alism of  Scripture,  they  are  accepted  by  the 
majority  of  their  hearers  for  what  they  are 
in  themselves,  not  for  what  they  say.  Their 
life  may  preach  to  all,  and  it  may  be  a  glo- 
rious message ;  but  the  interpretations,  the 
criticisms,  and  the  arguments  in  which  they 
trust  for  conviction,  meet  none  of  the  con- 
ditions of  authority. 

But  because  a  good  deal  of  the  author- 
ity which  the  pulpit  assumes  is  misplaced, 
it  by  no  means  follows  that  we  have 
enough  of  it.  On  the  contrary,  I  reafHrm 
the  statement  that  the  mind  of  the  age  is 
ready  and  anxious  to  come  under  the  au- 
thority of  truth.  What  proportion  of  men 
do  you  think  wish  to  reason  God  out  of 
existence  or  out  of  his  world  ?  How  many 
are  longing  to  disbelieve  in  immortality? 
How  many  of  those  even  who  break  the 
commandments  wish  to  abolish  them  ? 
How  many  would  prefer  to  have  Chris- 
tianity proven  a  myth  rather  than  an  his- 
toric fact  ?  Let  us  not  wrong  the  temper 
of  our  age,  however  much  we  may  share 
in  its  mental  perplexities.  I  am  confident 
that  nothing  would  receive  so  true  a  wel- 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  15 

come  from  the  mind  of  this  age  as  some 
great  vindication  of  religious  faith  —  the 
equivalent  in  our  time  of  Butler's  Anal- 
ogy, or  of  Edwards  on  the  Will.  It  is  no 
disproof  of  this  opinion  to  say  that  we 
stumble  over  the  creeds  and  confessions. 
We  forget  that  the  ages  which  produced 
these  symbols  had  the  advantage  of  us  in 
that  these  symbols  were  their  own  produc- 
tions. The  age  which  produces  the  next 
great  confession  will  take  delight  in  it, 
and  repeat  it  in  sincerity,  it  may  be  in 
triumph. 

Meanwhile,  however,  we  must  remind 
ourselves,  in  justice  to  the  fact,  that  faith 
has  not  been  left  amongst  us  without  its 
witnesses.  If  pressed  too  hard,  our  age 
may  reply  to  any  age  of  the  creed,  "  Show 
me  thy  faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will 
show  thee  my  faith  by  my  works."  The 
same  faith  which  wrote  the  confessions  is 
busy  on  mission  fields,  in  hospitals,  and  in 
schools.  It  is  no  more  to  the  discredit  of 
faith  to  be  obliged  to  confess  that  it  is  now 
more  practical  than  intellectual,  than  it  is 
to  the  discredit  of  genius  to  be  obliged  to 
confess  that  it  has  gone  over  so  largely 


i6  PREACHING 

into  invention,  and  become  the  slave  of 
utility.  And  yet,  I  think  that  I  cannot  be 
mistaken  when  I  note  the  growing  desire 
and  disposition  of  men  to  come  again 
under  the  sway  of  great  intellectual  beliefs, 
to  come  again  under  authority.  This  is 
no  retrograde  movement.  It  is  not  a  call 
to  rest.  It  is  rather,  as  I  interpret  it,  the 
appeal  of  the  intellect  to  be  allowed  to  go 
out  once  more  into  the  affirmative,  and  to 
take  the  open  field  in  behalf  of  spiritual 
truth.  We  have  given  over  a  long  gener- 
ation to  criticism,  to  discussion,  and  to 
readjustment  in  the  region  of  theological 
beliefs.  Darwin  published  the  "  Origin  of 
Species  "  in  1859  ;  Jowett,  the  "  Essays  and 
Reviews  "  in  i860;  and  Colenso,  his  views 
on  "The  Pentateuch"  in  1862.  From 
that  time  on  English-speaking  Christen- 
dom has  been  engaged  in  investigation  or 
controversy.  There  has  been  no  waste  of 
time.  There  is  no  reason  now  for  impa- 
tience. Neither  truth  nor  righteousness 
is  ever  in  haste.  As  Charles  Sumner 
used  to  say,  "  Nothing  is  settled  till  it  is 
settled  right."  But  as  the  power  of  the 
pulpit  depends  upon  the  sufficiency  as  well 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  17 

as  upon  the  certainty  of  truth,  there  is 
coming  to  be  a  popular  demand  for  an  in- 
crease in  the  volume  of  acknowledged 
truth.  Measured  by  the  formalities  of  the 
creeds,  there  has  been  a  large  shrinkage. 
Has  there  been  in  reality  a  shrinkage  ? 
Has  there  not  been  an  extension  of  natu- 
ral and  revealed  truth  —  if  in  using  these 
terms  we  keep  to  the  old  distinctions  —  in 
all  directions  ?  Is  not  the  thought  of  God 
larger,  closer,  more  pervasive  than  ever 
before  ?  Does  not  Jesus  Christ  hold  a 
more  fundamental  and  central  position 
than  he  held  at  the  time  when  Christianity 
began  to  be  reexamined  ?  Is  the  Bible 
less  true  in  its  new  freedom  than  when  it 
was  in  bondage  to  inerrancy  and  infallibil- 
ity.'* Are  the  problems  of  human  destiny 
less  serious  or  awful  because  studied  in 
the  terms  of  a  larger  Christianity.  Surely 
if  we  are  straitened,  it  is  not  in  the  truth, 
it  is  in  ourselves. 

I  do  not  underestimate  the  work  of  a 
generation  just  emerging  from  a  period  of 
criticism  and  controversy.  We  must  be 
patient.  No  progress  is  made  by  running 
in  advance  of  facts.     But  there  comes  a 


i8  PREACHING 

time,  we  are  always  to  remember,  when 
the  pulpit  anticipates  the  schools.  Great 
truths  announce  their  presence  before  they 
are  formulated.  They  are  tried,  proven, 
experienced,  before  they  are  ready  for  the 
confessions.  The  proclamation  of  the  in- 
coming truth  always  precedes  by  necessity 
and  therefore  by  right  the  formulation  of 
it.  This  has  been  the  history  of  the  great 
doctrines.  The  deity  of  our  Lord,  and  in 
due  time  his  humanity,  justification  by 
faith,  the  sovereignty  of  God,  the  universal- 
ity of  the  atonement,  were  all  apprehended 
and  declared  by  the  clearer  and  braver 
souls  before  they  became  the  doctrines  of 
the  church.  It  is  at  the  dawn,  before  a 
truth  has  faded  into  the  light  of  common 
day,  that  the  preacher  has  the  rare,  inspir- 
ing authoritative  opportunity.  Let  no  man 
be  deceived  by  the  shallow  dictum,  —  the 
true  is  not  new,  the  new  is  not  true.  Truth 
is  always  coming  into  the  world  under  con- 
ditions which  make  it  for  the  first  time  clear 
and  imperative.  Then  it  is  as  new  as  if  it 
had  not  always  existed.  It  was  justifica- 
tion by  faith  on  the  background  of  pen- 
ance, indulgences,  and  superstition,  which 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  19 

gave  us  the  Reformation.  It  was  the 
sovereignty  of  God  over  against  spiritual 
tyranny  in  high  places  which  gave  us 
Puritanism.  It  was  a  universal  atonement 
made  necessary  by  the  unanswerable  ap- 
peal of  an  opening  world  which  gave  us 
modern  missions.  It  is  no  less  evidently 
true  that  the  immanence  of  God  could 
not  have  come  into  the  real  apprehension 
of  the  world  until  modern  science  had  pre- 
pared the  way  for  it;  nor  that  the  con- 
ception of  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth 
could  have  really  become  a  hope  and  an 
expectation  until  men  had  begun  to  see, 
as  in  our  time,  the  capacity  of  human 
society,  and  had  begun  to  feel,  as  we  are 
feeling,  those  strange  and  well-nigh  uni- 
versal yearnings  for  the  brotherhood  of 
man.  The  process  is  always  going  on.  It 
is  the  divine  method  to  bring  out  truths, 
to  force  them  to  the  front,  to  make  them 
new.  Blessed  are  the  ages  in  which  the 
work  is  most  evident.  Blessed  are  the 
men  who  at  such  a  time  have  vision. 

"Then  felt  I  like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken  : 
Or  like  stout  Cortez  when  with  eagle  eyes 


20  PREACHING 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific  —  and  all  his  men 
Looked  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise  — 
Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

But  you  may  say  to  me,  every  preacher, 
as  he  begins  his  work,  has  something  more 
than  the  uncertainties  of  his  time  to  con- 
tend with.  He  has  the  uncertainties  of  his 
own  mind.  How  then  can  he  have  author- 
ity? Dr.  Dale  quotes  the  saying  of  a 
young  friend,  "  A  minister,  when  he  is  just 
beginning  to  preach,  must  sometimes  write 
a  sermon  to  clear  his  own  mind  on  a  sub- 
ject." To  which  he  adds  the  shrewd  re- 
mark, "  A  sermon  which  is  written  to  clear 
the  mind  of  the  preacher  will  be  very 
likely  to  perplex  and  confuse  the  minds 
of  the  hearers."  "  It  would  strike  you  as 
very  odd,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  if  a  politi- 
cian told  you  that  he  had  made  a  speech 
in  Congress  in  order  to  clear  his  own 
mind  on  the  true  economical  doctrine 
about  money."  No,  that  particular  exhibit 
would  not  strike  us  as  very  odd,  but,  bar- 
ring the  illustration,  we  will  take  the  prin- 
ciple. 

I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  refer  to  an  expe- 
rience of  this  sort  in  my  own  early  minis- 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  21 

try.  I  had  prepared  a  sermon  which  had 
been,  I  doubt  not,  profitable  to  me,  but 
which  was  so  utterly  ineffective  as  a  ser- 
mon that  I  took  the  liberty  of  asking  a 
very  discerning  friend  what  was  the  diffi- 
culty with  it.  His  reply  was  the  best  criti- 
cism I  ever  received.  "  You  seemed  to 
me,"  he  said,  "  to  be  more  concerned  about 
the  truth  than  about  men."  Yes,  that  was 
the  difficulty.  I  saw  it  in  a  moment.  I 
had  no  right  as  a  preacher  to  be  concerned 
about  the  truth.  I  should  have  had  the 
truth  in  command,  so  that  I  could  have 
given  my  whole  concern  to  men.  As  it 
was,  the  sermon  lacked  authority. 

It  is  not  so  practical  a  question  as  we 
may  at  first  suppose  —  how  far  can  the 
preacher  be  a  searcher  after  truth  and  yet 
be  the  preacher.  A  searcher  after  truth 
he  must  be  to  be  the  preacher.  The 
preacher  ought  to  have  the  two  qualities 
of  freshness  and  fullness.  I  have  recently 
listened  to  a  course  of  lectures  from  one 
of  the  really  great  teachers  of  our  time,  a 
man  characterized  by  both  these  qualities. 
He  told,  I  think,  the  secret  of  his  power, 
when  he  chanced  to  say  in  conversation, 


22  PREACHING 

"  Every  day's  lecture  should  stand  for  what 
a  man  might  say,  as  well  as  for  what  he 
does  say."  It  is  the  unsaid  word,  if  we 
know  it  is  there,  it  is  the  sense  of  power 
in  reserve  after  one  has  done  his  best,  it 
is  the  absolute  certainty  of  mental  and 
spiritual  growth,  which  give  a  people  con- 
fidence and  grateful  delight  in  a  preacher. 
But  a  preacher  must  learn  to  guard 
the  processes  of  his  mind  so  that  he  can 
think  not  only  forward  but  backward : 
backward,  that  is,  toward  what  is  most  fun- 
damental and  even  elementary  in  truth ; 
for  it  is  there  that  he  makes  sure  and 
deep  contact  with  the  mind  of  his  audi- 
ence. "  What  is  eloquence,"  Vinet  asks, 
"  but  the  power  of  the  commonplace  ?  It 
is  making  the  primitive  chords  vibrate." 
Great  fundamental  truths  have  this  power : 
unquestioned  and  unquestionable  truths, 
that  go  from  heart  to  heart,  never  denied 
access  or  hospitality,  and  never  enfeebled 
by  use.  The  more  of  these  truths  the 
preacher  has  in  command,  the  more  he 
will  be  able  to  realize  what  I  spoke  of  at 
the  beginning,  the  preaching  power  of 
an  audience.     A  truth  of  this  sort  when 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  23 

once  it  is  in  full  play  between  the  preacher 
and  audience,  how  good  it  is  to  be  either 
preacher  or  hearer !  Hearing  is  then  the 
answering  voice.  Preaching  and  hearing 
—  it  is  "  deep  calling  unto  deep." 

Grant  that  the  preacher  of  to-day  has 
humanity  and  authority,  that  he  has  the 
power  to  compel  men  to  help  him  in  his 
work  of  persuasion,  and  that  he  has  a  suf- 
ficiency of  truth  in  command,  what  does 
he  lack,  if  he  lack  at  all,  in  meeting  the 
conditions  of  modern  preaching  ?  Is  there 
any  other  quality,  which  is  a  peculiar  ne- 
cessity of  our  age,  and  which,  because  of 
this  necessity,  the  age  has  the  right  to  de- 
mand of  the  pulpit?  I  answer  unhesitat- 
ingly, yes:  the  preacher  of  to-day  must 
have  faith.  He  must  be  able,  that  is,  to 
give  men  elevation  and  outlook. 

One  cannot  fail  to  see  when  looking 
at  our  time  from  a  spiritual  point  of 
view,  that  it  is  not  only  self-absorbed,  but 
self-centred  and  self-sufficient.  We  have 
broken  the  connection  with  other  times. 
We  are  living  in  the  isolation  of  our 
knowledge,  as  others  may  have  lived  in 
the  isolation  of  their  ignorance.     We  are 


24  PREACHING 

SO  much  to  ourselves  that  we  have  re- 
jected the  companionship  of  the  past,  and 
are  not  anxious  or  even  curious  about  the 
future.  Of  course,  this  is  a  kind  of  pro- 
vincialism ;  just  as  the  resident  of  a  great 
city  is  apt  to  be  bounded  by  it  to  the  de- 
gree by  which  he  is  enlarged  by  it.  The 
average  Londoner  or  Parisian  or  New 
Yorker  lives  more  in  his  city  than  in  his 
country.  He  is  not  so  sensitive  to  the 
national  spirit  as  his  neighbor  is  who  is 
less  overpowered  by  his  immediate  sur- 
roundings. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  aver- 
age mind  which  is  in  and  of  this  age  is 
bounded  by  it.  Not  only  is  there  more  of 
the  world  than  at  any  previous  time,  but 
most  of  the  things  in  the  world  are  worth 
more.  One  cannot  calculate  by  just  how 
much  the  valuation  of  the  world  is  in- 
creased. This  is  not  necessary.  The 
moral  effect  of  this  increase  lies  in  the 
appeal  which  the  world  of  to-day  makes  to 
sense  rather  than  to  faith.  In  spite  of  the 
great  contrasts  in  material  condition,  no 
one  can  mistake  the  satisfaction  which 
men  take  in  the  material  world,  as  they 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  25 

know  it,  as  they  possess  it.  With  some  it 
is  a  purely  sordid  gratification,  the  mere 
sensual  enjoyment  of  prosperity.  With 
others  it  is  the  satisfaction  which  comes 
from  the  opportunity  of  search  and  strug- 
gle, the  hot  competition  of  the  business 
world.  With  others  still  it  is  the  joy  of  in- 
vestigation and  physical  research,  the  pur- 
suit of  knowledge  for  the  sake  of  know- 
ledee.  We  cannot  overestimate  the  fact 
that  the  world,  this  physical  world,  means 
more  to  us  than  it  ever  meant  to  living  men. 
Never  before  did  men  possess  so  many  lands 
or  subdue  so  many  seas.  Never  before  did 
men  know  so  well  the  secret  of  wealth. 
And  never  before  have  there  been  opened 
to  them  so  many  provinces  in  the  invisible 
realms  of  matter. 

Now  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  soon  or 
late  there  will  be  a  spiritual  reaction  from 
this  intense  satisfaction  in  what  we  call  the 
world.  I  do  not  mean  simply  a  reaction 
from  low  and  sordid  worldliness,  but  from 
all  which  the  material  world  has  to  offer. 
The  soul  of  man  cannot  live  upon  the  in- 
come of  material  wealth.  The  soul  of  man 
cannot  live  upon  the  discoveries  of  science. 


26  PREACHING 

Extend  the  world  as  you  will,  there  is  no 
lasting  satisfaction  in  it  for  the  human  soul. 
And  when  the  time  of  spiritual  dissatisfac- 
tion comes,  —  no  one  knows  how  near  it  is, 
—  then  we  have  this  alternative,  either  the 
return  to  some  kind  of  other  worldliness, 
or  the  advance  into  some  more  spiritual 
conception  of  the  world  itself.  I  cannot 
believe  in  modern  mediaevalism.  I  must 
believe  in  such  a  spiritual  interpretation 
of  this  world,  and  in  such  a  spiritual  use 
of  its  forces  as  will  satisfy  the  souls  of 
men. 

But,  meanwhile,  the  problem  of  the 
preacher  is  how  to  lift  men  above  their 
time  for  spiritual  uses,  how  to  give  them 
elevation  and  outlook.  You  may  be  sur- 
prised when  I  say  that  one  of  the  greatest 
incentives  to  faith  in  such  a  time  as  this  is 
the  historic  spirit.  Here  lies  the  interpre- 
tative power  of  faith.  Balaam  was  right 
when  he  said  of  Israel,  "  Israel  has  no  need 
of  diviner  or  soothsayer:  it  is  enough  to 
say  in  Israel,  what  hath  God  wrought." 
The  men  of  our  time  must  be  made  to  see 
and  to  know  their  place  in  the  long  plan  of 
God.     We  need  to  go  back  far  enough  to 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  27 

get  the  grade  on  which  the  world  has  been 
moving,  to  feel  the  ascent  in  the  providence 
of  God.  The  increasing  argument  for  faith 
lies  in  history.  It  is  the  great  argument 
against  narrowness,  against  complacency, 
against  low  outlooks.  It  lifts  the  spiritual 
horizon. 

When  we  think  of  the  peculiar  office  of 
faith  we  naturally  turn  toward  the  unseen. 
One  of  our  first  questions  is  about  immor- 
tality. Can  the  preacher  make  that  real  to 
men  to-day?  Yes,  but  not  in  the  same 
way  as  at  some  other  times.  This  world  is 
not  the  same  as  when  the  contrast  was  first 
made  between  it  and  heaven.  The  outlook 
into  the  future  from  Rome  under  Nero  was 
very  different  from  the  present  outlook 
from  England  and  America.  Persecution 
offers  no  spur  to  hope.  The  Christian  cen- 
turies have  made  this  world  more  desirable. 
We  can  hardly  sing,  except  under  some 
spiritual  exaltation,  the  hymns  of  mediaeval 
saints  as  they  turned  their  hearts  heaven- 
ward. It  is  not  possible  therefore  that  im- 
mortality can  make  its  appeal  in  precisely 
the  same  way  to  us  as  to  them.  It  is  no 
longer  the  appeal  of  one  world  against  an- 


28  PREACHING 

other.  What  is  the  present  significance  of 
immortality  ?  It  is  the  appeal  to  the  soul  of 
man  in  behalf  of  its  rights  both  here  and 
hereafter.  Immortality  means  more  and 
more  the  spiritual,  not  only  that  which  out- 
lives time,  but  that  which  cannot  be  satisfied 
with  the  things  of  time.  The  faith  of  the 
preacher  shows  itself  therefore  in  the  clear- 
ness, in  the  urgency,  and  in  the  expectation 
with  which  he  addresses  himself  to  the  spir- 
itual man.  If  he  does  not  himself  see  the 
things  of  the  spirit  here  and  now,  and  be- 
lieve in  them,  he  has  scant  vision  for  such 
an  age  as  ours.  If  he  does  see  these 
things,  if  men  as  they  come  and  go  be- 
fore him  are  more  to  him  in  their  souls 
than  in  their  outward  estate,  whatever  it 
may  be,  they  too  may  have  power  to  look 
at  the  greater  and  imperishable  self,  and 
come  under  the  power  of  the  vision  now 
made  their  own. 

But  there  is  another  way  of  elevation  and 
uplift  which  is  open  to  the  preacher  accord- 
ing to  his  faith.  I  believe  that  it  is  in  some 
respects  more  possible  to  make  Christ  real 
to  men  than  it  is  to  make  their  own  souls 
real  to  them.    And  if  there  has  been  any  ad- 


MODERN   CONDITIONS  29 

vantage  from  the  distractions  to  the  pulpit 
during  these  past  years,  it  has  been  in  the 
unanimity  and  urgency  with  which  the  pul- 
pit has  turned  to  the  person  of  Christ.  It  is 
the  wider  and  more  familiar  knowledge  of 
Christ,  which,  more  than  all  else,  has  held 
our  age  to  faith.  Men  could  not  utterly 
disbelieve  in  his  presence,  they  could  not 
deny  the  Kingdom  of  God  which  he  set 
up  on  the  earth,  they  could  not  despair  of 
themselves,  when  they  saw  the  possibilities 
of  their  own  nature  revealed  in  him.  There 
are  altogether  insufficient  ways  of  preach- 
ing Christ,  but  I  doubt  not  that  even 
through  these  many  have  been  led  to  touch 
the  hem  of  his  garment  and  have  been 
made  whole.  It  is  given  to  the  individual 
soul  to  claim  the  right  of  its  full  salvation 
in  Christ.  That  obtains  at  all  times  and  in 
all  places.  It  has  been  given  to  our  age  in 
a  very  real  and  very  peculiar  sense  to  be 
saved,  as  an  age,  by  the  presence  of  Christ. 
It  is  his  presence  which  has  made  it  possi- 
ble for  the  spiritual  to  live  in  the  midst  of 
the  tremendous  materialism  of  the  century. 
I  think  that  I  have  said  enough  in  these 
opening  words  to  show  you  my  conception 


30     PREACHING:   MODERN  CONDITIONS 

of  the  preacher  as  he  undertakes  his  work 
under  present  conditions.  Modern  preach- 
ing puts  the  emphasis  on  the  humanity  of  the 
preacher,  on  his  authority,  and  on  his  faith. 
He  must  have  power  enough  over  men  to 
make  them  help  him ;  he  must  have  some 
sufHcient  truth  in  absolute  command,  that 
is,  he  must  be  possessed  by  it ;  and  he  must 
have  some  vision  of  the  spiritual,  which,  at 
the  highest,  as  at  its  nearest,  is  the  vision 
of  Christ. 

Do  the  conditions  seem  to  you  to  be 
hard.?  They  are  none  too  hard  for  the 
greatness  of  the  work,  nor  for  the  joy  of  its 
reward. 


II 


THE    MAKING   OF   THE     PREACHER    BY   EDUCA- 
TION 

In  the  opening  lecture,  after  considering 
the  motive  and  reason  for  our  subject,  we 
passed  at  once  to  the  question,  Who,  under 
present  conditions,  is  the  Preacher  ?  Mod- 
ern preaching,  as  we  saw,  lays  the  empha- 
sis upon  the  humanity  of  the  preacher, 
upon  his  authority,  and  upon  his  faith. 
The  questions  which  it  is  asking  all  the 
while,  and  with  the  greatest  solicitude 
about  every  man  in  the  pulpit,  are  these : 
Does  he  compel  other  men  to  help  him  in 
his  work  of  persuasion :  does  he  make  his 
audience  preach  for  him  ?  Has  he  a  suffi- 
ciency of  truth  in  command :  does  his 
preaching  rise  to  the  stress  of  a  gospel  ? 
Is  he  reaching  the  spiritual  man  who  is  in 
bondage  to  the  material  wealth  of  the  age : 
is  he  able  to  give  elevation  and  outlook  to 
those  about  him  ? 


32     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

These  questions,  as  we  judged,  revealed 
the  inexorable  conditions  of  modern  preach- 
ing, —  hard  conditions,  we  granted,  were 
they  not  matched  by  the  greatness  of  the 
preacher's  task,  and  by  the  joy  of  accom- 
plishing it. 

There  is  another  question  which  lies 
upon  the  threshold  of  our  discussion.  It 
is  so  much  a  part  of  our  inquiry  into  the 
Making  of  the  Preacher,  that  we  cannot 
afford  to  pass  it  by.  How  far  can  we  ex- 
pect to  educate  the  Preacher  ? 

I  address  myself  to-day  to  the  answer  to 
this  question,  premising  that  it  is  in  no 
sense  limited  to  the  training  in  our  semi- 
naries. 

We  are  met  at  the  outset  by  the  classifi- 
cation in  some  minds  of  the  preacher  with 
the  poet  and  orator,  as  born,  not  made. 
Let  us  not  altogether  ignore  this  classifica- 
tion. The  preacher  may  be  the  poet  or 
the  orator,  according  to  his  birthright. 
And  to  the  extent  to  which  he  justifies 
either  claim,  it  is  to  be  admitted  that  there 
is  a  personal  element  which  is  a  law  unto 
itself.  "  Genius,"  John  Foster  says,  "lights 
its  own  fires."    The  independence  of  genius 


BY   EDUCATION  33 

is  to  be  acknowledged.  If  any  consider- 
able part  of  those  entering  the  ministry 
or  any  profession  bore  the  unmistakable 
mark  of  genius,  I  confess  that  our  systems 
of  education  would  be  strained  to  make 
room  for  them.  Somebody  has  asked 
what  chance  Carlyle  would  have  in  a  mod- 
ern university.  Tennyson  refers  with  lit- 
tle satisfaction  or  gratitude  to  his  student 
days  at  Cambridge.  It  is  not  enough  to 
reply  with  the  cheap  sarcasm  that  it  will 
be  sufficient  time  to  consider  this  matter 
when  the  number  of  Carlyles  and  Tenny- 
sons  entering  our  universities  is  appreci- 
able. We  are  not  to  trifle  with  the  per- 
sonal element  in  any  man.  It  is  as  sacred 
to  society  as  to  the  individual.  I  concede 
that  it  must  be  allowed  the  largest  free- 
dom which  it  can  show  a  right  to,  and  that 
it  must  be  put  under  the  full  stimulus  to 
which  it  is  entitled.  Education  cannot  be 
conditioned  in  mediocrity.  It  must  have 
regard  to  the  exceptional  as  well  as  to  the 
average  man.  Indeed,  there  is  an  increas- 
ing reason,  which  I  will  adduce  in  a  mo- 
ment,  why  I  think  that  in  the  training  or 
recruiting  for   the    ministry    especial   re- 


34  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  PREACHER 

gard  should  be  had  for  the  exceptional 
man.  We  are  beginning  to  recognize  the 
fact  that  in  the  interest  of  the  social  econ- 
omy, for  the  very  necessities  of  society, 
we  must  draw  upon  the  widest  sources  of 
intellectual  supply,  and  open  the  way  out 
toward  all  the  unknown  possibilities  of 
genius.  Let  me  quote  the  word  of  Pro- 
fessor Marshall  in  reference  to  the  large 
duty  of  education  at  this  point,  assuming 
that  what  he  says  has  its  proportionate 
application  to  the  use  of  opportunity  and 
incentive  toward  the  ministry : 

"  The  laws  which  govern  the  birth  of 
genius  are  inscrutable.  It  is  probable  that 
the  percentage  of  the  children  of  the  work- 
ing classes  who  are  endowed  with  natural 
abilities  of  the  highest  order  is  not  so  great 
as  that  of  the  children  of  people  who  have 
attained  or  have  inherited  a  higher  position 
in  society.  But  since  the  manual-labor 
classes  are  four  or  five  times  as  numerous 
as  all  other  classes  put  together,  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  more  than  half  of  the  best 
natural  genius  that  is  born  in  the  country 
belongs  to  them;  and  of  this  a  great 
part  is  fruitless  for  want   of   opportunity. 


BY   EDUCATION  35 

There  is  no  extravagance  more  prejudicial 
to  the  growth  of  national  wealth  than  that 
wasteful  negligence  which  allows  genius 
that  happens  to  be  born  of  lowly  parent- 
age to  expend  itself  in  lowly  work.  No 
change  would  conduce  so  much  to  a  rapid 
increase  of  national  wealth  as  an  improve- 
ment in  our  schools,  and  especially  those 
of  the  middle  grades,  combined  with  an  ex- 
tensive system  of  scholarships,  which  would 
enable  the  clever  son  of  a  working  man  to 
rise  gradually  from  school  to  school  till  he 
had  the  best  theoretical  and  practical  edu- 
cation w^hich  the  age  can  give." 

Now  the  special  reason  for  consideration 
in  behalf  of  the  ministry,  of  the  unknown 
or  exceptional  man,  lies  in  the  change 
which  has  taken  place  in  the  outward  in- 
centives toward  the  ministry.  Under  the 
New  England  traditions  the  ministry  was 
an  aristocracy,  and  therefore  had  the  social 
incentive  at  work  for  its  supply.  Family 
life  was  set  toward  it.  It  passed  as  a  pro- 
fession from  father  to  son.  Children  were 
consecrated  to  that  form  of  service,  and  not 
infrequently  bore  names  to  remind  them  of 
their  high  calling.     Mr.  Beecher  used  to 


36    THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

say  that  "  none  of  the  boys  in  his  father's 
family  ever  thought  of  trying  to  get  away 
from  the  ministry,  except  one,  and  that  he 
made  no  such  success  in  his  waywardness 
as  to  encourage  the  others  to  attempt  to 
follow  him."  The  ministry  of  that  time 
was  more  than  a  profession,  it  was  a  class. 
Our  non-conformist  brethren  from  Eng- 
land who  visit  us  think  that  traces  of  this 
distinction  still  remain. 

And  as  the  family  life  was  set  toward 
the  ministry,  so  was  the  higher  education. 
College  after  college  arose,  that  "  the  light 
of  learning  should  not  go  out,  and  that  the 
study  of  God's  word  should  not  perish." 
If  one  wanted  the  best  education,  he  must 
find  it  in  the  courses  leading  to  the  minis- 
try. These  were  full  and  abundant.  They 
had  the  acknowledged  right  of  way.  They 
moved  on  in  easy  confidence  to  the  remot- 
est bounds  of  theological  learning.  The 
contract  with  the  first  professor  of  lan- 
guages in  Dartmouth  College  ran  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Mr.  Smith  agrees  to  settle  as  pro- 
fessor of  English,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew, 
Chaldee,  Syriac,  etc.,  in  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege, to  teach  which  and  as  many  of  them 


BY   EDUCATION  37 

and  other  such  languages  as  he  shall  under- 
stand, as  the  trustees  shall  judge  necessary 
and  practicable  for  one  man,  and  also  to 
read  lectures  on  them  as  often  as  the  pre- 
sident and  tutors,  with  himself,  shall  judge 
profitable  to  the  seminary." 

We  may  not  say,  perhaps,  that  the  change 
in  regard  to  these  two  early  incentives  to 
the  ministry  is  equally  great.     The  ten- 
dency of  the  family  toward  the  ministry 
is  probably  still  stronger  than  that  of  the 
school.       But   from    both    directions    the 
change  is  very  manifest.     And  the  com- 
pensation for  this  change    is   in   the  fact 
that  in  place  of  these  intermediate  influ- 
ences we  have  now  the  more  direct  appeal 
of   the   ministry   to   the    individual   man. 
More  men  are  to-day,  I  believe,  entering 
the  ministry  of  their  motion  than  at  any 
previous  time.     I  have  in  mind  not  a  few 
candidates  who  are  making  their  way  into 
it  out  of  hindering  and  diverting  surround- 
ings.   I  see  those  in  our  colleges  who  want 
to'^cross  the  lines  of  study  that  they  may 
put  themselves  into  connection  with  a  the- 
ological training,  indicating  that  the  earlier 
direction  was  unadvised.     I  take  account 


38     THE   MAKING   OF  THE   PREACHER 

of  those  who  are  leaving  other  professions 
while  it  is  yet  early  enough  to  study  for 
the  ministry.  Nothing,  I  think,  impressed 
me  so  much,  when  in  the  service  of  a  the- 
ological seminary,  as  the  number  and  the 
quality  of  men  who  had  turned  to  the  pul- 
pit out  of  mature  conviction,  and  under 
purely  personal  and  independent  incentives. 
I  am  convinced  that  the  recruiting  ground 
of  the  ministry  must  be  more  and  more 
among  undesignated,  uninfluenced,  un- 
known, and  exceptional  men.  The  min- 
istry must  find  its  recruits,  like  any  call- 
ing, among  those  who  are  so  minded ; 
only  that  in  this  regard  it  has  the  mighty 
advantage,  in  the  case  at  least  of  the  excep- 
tional man,  that  he  is  consciously  and  im- 
peratively called  of  God. 

As  we  pass  then  to  the  direct  question, 
How  far  can  we  educate  the  preacher  ?  we 
must  keep  in  mind  the  fact  that  educa- 
tion no  longer  makes  a  favorite  of  him. 
The  favorite  now  is  the  student  of  science. 
The  larger  increase  of  subject  matter,  the 
accepted  method,  and  the  enthusiasm  from 
discovery  and  from  application,  are  to  his 
especial  advantage.     So  it  appears.    But  I 


BY   EDUCATION  39 

am  not  sure  that  it  is  really  any  more  to  his 
advantage  than  it  is  to  the  advantage  of 
the  preacher.  In  any  event  what  matters 
it  whether  we  be  favorites  or  not  ?  Who 
wants  more  than  his  opportunity  ? 

Education,  meaning  by  it  that  organized 
system  which  is  now  open  to  every  one, 
can  do  these  three  things  to  make  ready 
the  preacher : 

First,  it  can  do  more  than  at  any  previ- 
ous time  to  develop  and  furnish  the  man, 
provided  he  has  insight  and  patience.  The 
old  education,  which  specialized  from  the 
beginning  straight  toward  the  ministry, 
produced  some  very  clear  and  noble  re- 
sults, the  like  of  which  you  may  see  to-day 
in  the  Romish  priesthood.  It  was  an  edu- 
cation with  clearly  prescribed  ends,  which 
were  reached  by  clearly  prescribed  meth- 
ods. But  something  often  seems  to  be 
lacking  in  the  lives  of  those  who  came 
under  that  training,  and  sometimes  the 
lack  is  pathetic.  We  are  aware  that  the 
whole  man  is  not  always  before  us.  Some 
part  of  the  nature  is  untouched,  or  if 
touched  undeveloped.  Occasionally  we 
get   a   hint  of  what  the  life   might   have 


40     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

been  under  a  broader  or  freer  training. 
Does  any  one  suppose,  after  reading  Jon- 
athan Edwards'  study  of  the  spider,  that  it 
would  have  been  a  loss  to  theology  if  he 
had  opened  his  mind  wide  to  the  study  of 
nature  ?  To  the  extent  to  which  we  allow 
ourselves  to  be  less  than  we  are  capable  of 
being,  we  make  ourselves  of  less  use  to 
society.  Society  wants  the  full  man,  the 
live  man,  the  sincere  man.  I  do  not  refer 
to  the  after  straightening  which  may  come 
to  every  one.  The  first  business  of  educa- 
tion is  to  make  sure  that  the  discovery  of 
one's  self  is  reasonably  complete.  And  at 
this  point  modern  education  can  serve 
the  preacher  better  than  the  old,  provided, 
I  have  said,  he  be  patient.  Impatience, 
haste,  will  neutralize  the  larger  opportu- 
nity. It  is  the  danger  which  confronts 
every  one  to-day  in  the  process  of  edu- 
cation. The  contention  is  now  stoutly 
urged  that  the  schools  deliver  too  late 
into  life,  therefore  the  time  of  preparation 
must  be  abridged.  I  take  issue,  in  behalf 
of  the  ministry,  with  the  premise.  As  Mr. 
Greeley  replied  to  the  man  who  demanded 
a  job  of  him  on  the  ground  that  he  must 
live,  —  "  That  remains  to  be  proven." 


BY   EDUCATION  41 

Why  should  one  take  less  time  to  enter 
upon  those  callings  which  are  preceded  by 
what  is  known  as  an  education,  than  to 
enter  upon  those  callings  which  are  pre- 
ceded by  an  apprenticeship  ?  Mark  Twain 
has  stated  the  present  business  situation  in 
an  aphorism,  — "  No  occupation  without 
an  apprenticeship ;  no  pay  to  the  appren- 
tice." In  what  business  may  one  expect  to 
find  himself  thoroughly  established,  with 
influence  or  authority  in  the  firm  or  cor- 
poration, with  a  generous  income,  and  pos- 
sessed of  a  home,  while  as  yet  he  is  within 
the  twenties?  Is  it  in  banking,  or  in  man- 
ufacturing, or  in  railroading,  or  in  general 
trade?  How  much  farther  along  is  the 
man  of  business  at  thirty  than  the  lawyer 
or  doctor  at  that  age,  unless  he  has  unlim- 
ited capital  or  is  of  exceptional  capacity? 
The  open  fact  is,  that  society  is  growing 
more  complicated,  its  demands  are  more 
exacting,  and  consequently  personal  ad- 
vancement is  slower.  As  surely  as  the 
rate  of  interest  is  declining,  so  surely  are 
we  all  coming  under  the  law  of  diminishing 
returns;  which  means  that  for  the  same  re- 
sults we  must  do  harder  work  or  secure  a 


42     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

better  equipment,  which  in  turn  means  that 
we  must  take  a  longer  time  in  preparation. 
I  see  no  reason,  therefore,  why  a  man  who 
proposes  to  enter  upon  his  life  work  by 
way  of  an  education  should  complain  of 
the  time  required  to  prepare  for  it,  and 
especially  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  work- 
ing time  of  life  has  been  greatly  extended. 
If  society  calls  a  man  later  to  his  tasks, 
it  allows  him  to  remain  longer  at  them. 
The  age  of  retirement  has  been  advanced. 
Whatever  the  young  man  in  his  impatience 
seems  to  be  losing  reappears  in  the  unspent 
force  of  later  years. 

A  second  result  to  be  expected  from 
modern  education  —  I  cannot  overestimate 
its  value  to  the  preacher  —  is  that  it  can 
give  him  contact  with  the  mind  of  his 
time.  Without  question  the  minds  of  men 
are  finding  their  chief  training  to-day  in 
the  school  of  utility.  When  Thoreau 
graduated  at  Harvard  —  it  was  about  sixty 
years  ago  —  he  made  the  statement  in  his 
graduating  address  "  The  world  is  more 
beautiful  than  useful."  That  is  a  state- 
ment which  no  one  could  dispute  then  or 
now.      Every  one's  opinion  must  depend 


BY   EDUCATION  43 

upon  his  point  of  view.  But  whatever 
may  have  been  the  proportion  in  Tho- 
reau's  time,  it  is  now  evident  that  where 
one  sees  real  beauty  in  the  world,  ten  see 
more  clearly  some  kind  of  utility,  and 
without  doubt  the  proportion  is  increasing. 
Here  then  is  a  vast  amount  of  mind  to 
be  reached,  some  of  it  thoroughly  trained. 
It  does  not  follow  that  a  preacher  must 
therefore  become  a  utilitarian  in  his  think- 
ing. It  does  not  follow  that  he  must  use 
the  motives  which  lie  on  the  low  plane  of 
utility.  It  does  follow  that  he  has  an  im- 
mense advantage  if  he  knows  and  under- 
stands through  his  own  training  the  work- 
ing of  this  kind  of  mind.  For  one  thing, 
he  will  not  offend  and  alienate  it  by  in- 
exact methods  of  thought.  His  statements 
will  bear  verification.  His  arguments  will 
hold  true  to  the  laws  of  evidence.  Having 
made  contact  with  the  mind  thus  trained, 
he  will  be  able  to  move  to  his  own  ends. 
Imagination,  sentiment,  emotion,  will  not 
be  wasted.  Exact  thinking  is  not  opposed 
to  high  thinking,  nor  logic  to  feeling,  nor 
carefulness  of  speech  to  the  freedom  of  the 
imagination. 


44    THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

I  have  a  practical  suggestion  to  offer  to 
our  seminaries.  I  find  that  there  is  a  con- 
siderable number  of  men  who  have  been 
trained  in  the  scientific  or  semi-scientific 
courses  in  our  colleges,  who  wish  as  they 
near  the  close  of  their  college  course  to 
study  for  the  ministry.  Usually  they  are 
men  of  assured  strength.  Their  decision 
shows  that  they  are  of  mature  and  inde- 
pendent mind.  No  motive  could  influ- 
ence men  in  these  conditions  except  the 
overruling  desire  to  enter  the  ministry. 
What  can  be  done  for  them  ?  They  will 
bring  strength  and  consecration  to  the 
pulpit.  They  will  be  a  special  power  in 
bringing  the  pulpit  into  contact  with  the 
type  of  mind  which  we  have  been  consid- 
ering. I  do  not  hesitate  to  ask  for  a  place 
for  them  in  our  seminaries,  in  our  best 
seminaries,  and  that  facilities  be  offered 
them  for  gaining  the  necessary  technical 
knowledge,  especially  in  Greek.  Other- 
wise we  shall  lose,  out  of  the  trained  min- 
istry at  least,  more  and  more  of  the  best 
mind  which  our  colleges  are  producing. 

The  third  result  which  education  ought 
to  be  expected  to  give  to  the  preacher  is 


BY   EDUCATION  45 

the  clear  and  sure  access  to  truth.  Not 
possession  of  it  in  any  large  degree,  that 
is  the  work  of  a  lifetime,  but  access  to  it. 

I  desire,  gentlemen,  to  enter  my  protest 
and  warning  in  your  presence  against  the 
assumption  that  truth  in  any  form  can  be 
had  for  the  asking,  that  it  lies  within  easy 
reach  of  the  mind.  That  is  never  the  fact. 
Truth  there  may  be  within  us  or  above  us, 
written  "  on  the  black  bosom  of  the  night," 
for  the  guidance  of  our  feet  in  plain  paths ; 
but  that  is  not  enough.  The  paths  of  men 
are  no  longer  plain  ;  they  cross  and  re- 
cross  in  bewildering  confusion ;  the  world 
thickens ;  and  he  who  makes  too  easy  a 
thing  of  duty  or  of  truth  only  adds  in  time 
one  more  bewildered  or  wayward  soul  to 
the  care  of  the  great  shepherd  and  his 
church. 

In  spite  of  what  we  rightly  call  pro- 
gress, in  spite  of  the  great  and  sure  gains 
of  knowledge,  in  spite  even  of  revelation, 
nothing  is  more  evident  and  more  impres- 
sive than  the  remoteness  of  truth  from 
each  new  age.  What  is  it  which  calls  out 
the  finest  energy  of  each  new  age  except 
the  search  after  truth?     This  is  no  pas- 


46     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

time.  It  is  the  serious  business  of  serious 
men,  lovers  of  their  kind  as  well  as  lovers 
of  truth.  Who  are  scholars,  and  what  are 
they  trying  to  do  ?  Men  who  want  to 
know  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  no- 
thing but  the  truth,  and  who  want  to  have 
their  fellow-men  know,  as  they  know,  that, 
as  Descartes  said,  "  they  may  walk  sure- 
footedly  in  this  life." 

It  is  well  to  remind  ourselves  of  these 
motives  and  aims  of  all  true  scholars,  and 
of  the  urgent  necessities  which  rest  upon 
them,  in  view  of  the  still  remaining  atti- 
tude of  a  part  of  the  church  towards  its 
most  advanced  scholarship.  We  cannot 
do  too  much  to  correct  the  mistake  in 
many  honest  minds,  that  scholarship  cre- 
ates confusion,  and  introduces  doubt 
where  before  there  was  faith.  And  to 
make  this  correction,  we  must  show  how 
simplicity  of  thought  and  life  has  given 
way  to  complexity,  which  means  that  much 
hard,  brave,  patient  thinking  must  be  done 
by  somebody  in  every  department  of  life 
before  anybody  can  act.  There  never  was 
a  time  when  the  motto  of  Governor  Win- 
throp,   of   Massachusetts    Bay,   was   more 


BY  EDUCATION  47 

pertinent  than  now — "When  you  don't 
know  what  to  do,  don't  go  and  do  it." 

In  fact,  it  has  now  become  evident  that 
there  are  but  two  vaHd  positions  for  the 
church  to  take,  to  fall  back  upon  authority 
and  go  to  Rome,  or  to  encourage  all  clear, 
straight,  honest,  reverent  search  after  the 
truth.  The  truth  we  want  and  need  and 
must  have  for  the  ordering  of  faith  and 
the  conduct  of  life  is  not  so  accessible  that 
we  can  dispense  in  the  least  degree  with 
scholarship,  unless  we  are  prepared  to  ac- 
cept authority.  The  most  serious  business 
therefore  in  the  education  for  the  minis- 
try is  to  give  to  the  men  who  are  to  as- 
sume its  responsibilities  access  to  the  truth. 
If  there  is  any  distinction  between  an  ed- 
ucated and  an  uneducated  ministry,  it  is 
here :  not  simply  that  one  man  can  use 
better  English  than  another,  or  quote  more 
authors,  or  answer  men  with  quicker  wit, 
but  that  the  educated  preacher  can  give 
light,  restore  confidence,  guide  more  safely 
and  farther,  and  if  need  be  take  command 
when  there  is  a  call  for  a  spiritual  leader. 

You  do  not  ask  me  how  this  access  is 
to  be  gained.     You   are   in  the  process. 


48     THE   MAKING   OF  THE   PREACHER 

I  cannot  forbear,  however,  a  word  as  to 
the  range  of  the  work.  The  same  kind 
of  eager  but  patient  thought  is  needed 
in  every  department  of  theological  train- 
ing. The  Bible  is  no  more  inaccessible 
to  us  than  to  our  predecessors,  when  mea- 
sured by  the  separating  effect  of  language ; 
but  it  does  offer  a  more  arduous  task  to  us, 
since  we  have  undertaken  to  find  its  place 
in  history,  and  more  than  that,  to  put  our- 
selves within  its  great  historic  order  and 
movement,  and  let  it  carry  us  along  accord- 
ing to  the  providence  of  God. 

It  is  no  easier  task  when  we  turn  to 
theology,  when  we  consider  either  what 
the  Bible  has  to  say,  or  nature.  Nature 
seemed  to  the  theologian  of  the  past 
generation  simplicity  itself.  Our  fathers 
preached  Paley's  Natural  Theology  as 
easily  as  they  preached  the  Levitical  law. 
They  may  not  understand  the  embarrass- 
ment of  those  who  must  now  take  account 
of  the  theory  of  Evolution,  but  they  have 
no  right  to  say  to  us,  after  this  long  and 
pleasant  experience  in  the  use  of  "  Paley," 
that  the  pulpit  has  no  further  use  for  what 
they  called  natural  theology.  There  is  no 
option  about  the  use  or  disuse  of  truth. 


BY   EDUCATION  49 

And  when  we   turn  to  our  social  pro- 
blems, we  find  ourselves  under  no  less  a 
necessity    for   painstaking    and    thorough 
study.      The   difference    between  the  old 
philanthropy  and  the  new,  or  between  the 
lower  and  the  higher,  has  been  well  put  in 
the   statement,   "  The  lower  philanthropy 
tries  to  put  right  what  social  conditions 
have  put  wrong:  the  higher  philanthropy 
tries    to   put    right   the    social   conditions 
themselves."     The  difference  is  immense. 
It  is  the   difference  between  the  charity 
which  expresses  itself  altogether  in  relief 
and  rescue  and  the  charity  which  expresses 
itself  in  restraint  and  precaution,   in  the 
effort  to  rescue  the  rights  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  in  the  greater  effort  to  effect  at 
some  vital  points  the  readjustment,  if  not 
the  reconstruction,  of  society.     If  the  good 
is  the  foe  of  the  best,  then  it  is  true  that 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  the  old-time  char- 
ity hurts  the  new.    As  Jacob  Riis  said  a 
little  time  ago  in  a  convention,  in  which 
the  scripture  "  Charity  covereth   a  multi- 
tude of  sins  "  had  been  made  to  do  its  ac- 
customed   work,  —  "  Brethren,"    speaking 
with  his  Danish    idiom,  "  it  was  time   to 
take  that  cover  off." 


50     THE   MAKING   OF  THE   PREACHER 

Whichever  way,  then,  we  turn  in  our 
present  work,  we  see  that  education  puts 
the  newer  demands  upon  us,  and  offers  us 
everywhere  the  new  privileges.  We  get 
much  in  method :  we  get  something  in 
actual  results :  we  get  more  in  the  sense  of 
the  strain  and  toil  which  truth  demands, 
no,  I  will  not  say  demands,  but  allows,  of 
those  who  are  to  use  it  for  the  good  of 
their  kind.  Is  there  not  an  unmistaka- 
ble joy  to-day  in  the  companionship  of 
scholars,  an  exultation  in  the  atmosphere 
of  scholarship  ? 

These  three  things  we  ought  to  ex- 
pect of  education  as  an  organized  system, 
which  takes  a  man  up  on  his  way  to  the 
ministry:  it  ought  to  develop  him  and 
furnish  him  as  a  man,  not  simply  as  a 
preacher;  it  ought  to  give  him  contact 
with  the  mind  of  his  time ;  and  it  ought 
to  give  him  access  to  the  truth  ;  not  the 
means  simply,  but  the  strenuous  spirit  of 
search. 

I  would  like  to  devote  the  remainder 
of  this  lecture  to  the  somewhat  informal 
consideration  of  certain  influences,  which, 
though  not  strictly  and  technically  educa- 


BY   EDUCATION  51 

tional,  are  operative  within  the  period  of 
education. 

Among  these  influences  which  I  have 
in  mind,  I  put  first  the  influence  of  some 
one  person,  be  he  instructor  or  author, 
upon  the  mind  and  heart  of  a  student 
In  the  old  version,  there  stood  out  in  the 
margin  of  the  book  of  Malachi  a  phrase 
which  expresses  by  a  happy  turn  what  I 
want  to  say.  The  phrase  has  been  incor- 
porated into  the  new  version,  but  in  the 
change  its  power  as  a  definition  has  been 
lost.  God  was  threatening,  as  one  of  the 
penalties  of  disobedience,  that  He  would 
cut  off  from  Israel  master  and  scholar. 
The  margin  said,  "  For  master  and  scholar 
read,  '  him  that  awaketh,  and  him  that  an- 
swereth.'"  That  is  the  influence  I  have 
in  mind  as  I  speak,  the  influence  of  "  him 
that  awaketh  "  upon  "  him  that  answereth." 
It  is  something  beyond  the  constant  im- 
pression which  comes  from  good  teaching. 
It  is  the  spark,  which  at  some  fit  moment 
is  dropped  into  the  nature,  which  is  ready 
to  be  kindled. 

As  these  lectures  allow  personal  experi- 
ence, I  will  recall  an  illustration  from  my 


52     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

own  life.  Near  the  close  of  my  seminary 
course,  when  I  was  in  no  little  doubt  about 
the  reality  of  what  I  had  to  preach,  and 
was  therefore  hesitating  between  the  law 
and  the  ministry,  I  chanced  upon  the  "  Life 
and  Letters  of  Robertson."  One  letter 
which  caught  my  attention  contained  a 
statement  of  his  personal  feeling  toward 
Christ.  I  had  never  known  till  then  that 
a  man  could  feel  in  just  that  way  about 
Christ.  Here  at  last  was  reality.  It  gave 
me  what  I  wanted.  I  began  at  once  on  my 
own  account  the  study  of  the  life  of  Christ. 
I  began  with  the  temptation,  the  point  I 
judged  of  greatest  reality  to  him.  And 
from  that  time  on  I  had  no  question  about 
the  ministry.  Robertson,  with  his  passion- 
ate loyalty  to  Christ,  wakened  the  answer- 
ing passion  in  my  soul. 

There  are  many  ways  in  which  this 
more  personal  influence  may  be  expressed. 
One  man  is  able  to  impart  something  of 
the  quality  of  his  own  thought  to  the 
thinking  of  those  who  come  under  him. 
The  virtue  which  goes  out  of  him  lies  in 
a  certain  sentiment  which  spiritualizes  his 
thought.     This  imparting  of  the  quality  or 


BY   EDUCATION  53 

sentiment  of  one's  mind  may  mean  more 
in  the  way  of  personal  influence  than  a 
founding  of  a  school  of  disciples.  The 
influence  of  Coleridge  was,  I  judge,  of  this 
order.  It  held  together  many  minds  which 
differed  widely  in  their  theological  posi- 
tions. Another  form  of  influence  may 
be  traced  to  those  who  deal  in  method 
or  impression,  to  those  who  are  distinc- 
tively preachers,  whether  they  are  thinkers 
or  not.  In  times  just  gone  by,  we  recall 
at  once  Mr.  Beecher  and  Mr.  Spurgeon. 
The  influence  of  these  men  was  profoundly 
spiritual  and  ethical,  albeit  it  produced  as 
a  secondary  result  not  a  little  imitation 
on  the  part  of  those  who  could  not  look 
below  their  methods  into  their  spirit.  But 
the  chief  influence  which  comes  to  us 
from  helpful  men  is  that  which  comes  to 
us  straight  out  of  their  personality.  They 
may  be  thinkers ;  they  may  be  distinctively 
preachers :  we  do  not  refer  to  them  in 
either  capacity:  we  call  them  by  name. 
So  we  speak  of  Maurice,  and  Robertson, 
and  Kingsley,  and  Bushnell,  and  Brooks. 
These,  and  the  like,  are  men  who  touch 
us,  and   we   are  most    sensitive   to   their 


54     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

touch  in  the  days  of  our  preparation  for 
the  ministry,  especially  if  for  any  reason 
our  thinking  or  our  plans  go  wrong. 

Next  to  the  stimulus  of  the  "  master," 
whoever  he  may  be,  I  put  the  contagion 
of  the  group,  —  the  influence  of  the  as- 
sociated life  of  which  one  is  a  part  dur- 
ing the  process  of  education.  Education 
in  its  earlier  stages  is  largely  a  matter  of 
society ;  later,  in  more  mature  life,  it  may 
be  a  matter  of  isolation.  It  is  good  for 
the  full-grown  man  to  withdraw  at  times 
from  the  city  into  the  desert,  unless  per- 
chance the  city  may  be  to  him  a  place  of 
solitude.  There  are  those  who  are  never 
so  much  alone  as  when  the  multitudes 
throng  and  press.  But  the  fundamental 
idea  of  the  school  is  the  group.  A  col- 
lege or  seminary  or  university  is  a  society, 
in  which  the  conditions  are  favorable  for 
rare  and  inspiring  fellowships.  Great  so- 
cial and  moral  movements  have  their  fre- 
quent origin  in  these  inner  groups.  Oxford 
alone  has  given  the  Wesleys  and  their 
friends,  Newman  and  Keble  and  Pusey, 
and  Arnold  Toynbee  and  his  fellow  work- 
ers.    Paul  lays  great  stress,  you  will  recall. 


BY   EDUCATION  55 

upon  the  quality  of  like-mindedness.  The 
group  is  organized  around  this  quality.  It 
signifies  more  than  a  common  disposition 
or  taste  or  liking.  It  carries  with  it  one- 
ness of  aim  and  purpose  and  consecration. 
The  group  guarantees  the  steady  impulse 
and  the  resolute  endeavor.  One  member 
may  lose  heart :  he  has  the  common  faith 
to  fall  back  upon.  There  are  times  when 
the  individual  may  have  an  immense  deal 
to  give,  there  are  times  when  he  needs  to 
make  great  drafts  upon  the  general  fund. 

We  are  coming  to  recognize  the  econ- 
omy of  the  group  in  the  more  exhausting 
forms  of  moral  and  religious  work.  Ser- 
vice in  the  midst  of  depressing  surround- 
ings must  itself  be  characterized  by  good 
cheer  and  steady  courage.  The  constant 
strain  upon  the  sympathies  is  the  test  of 
the  real  significance  of  living  and  working 
under  wrong  social  conditions.  I  doubt  if 
one  person  can  well  bear  the  strain.  It  is 
the  group  which  saves  the  individual  to  his 
work,  and  supplies  that  fund  of  good  cheer 
which  is  indispensable  to  spiritual  success. 
The  social  settlement  is  founded  in  the 
idea  of  the  spiritual  economy  of  the  group. 


56     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

The  settlement  has  already  produced  some 
very  striking  results,  but  it  is  contribut- 
ing a  principle  which,  as  fast  as  it  may  be 
applied,  will  reinvigorate  and  gladden  all 
lowlier  forms  of  service,  wherever  the  idea 
is  practicable.  I  wish  that  it  could  be 
made  more  practicable  among  those  enter- 
ing the  ministry.  What  it  requires  on 
their  part  is  the  willingness  to  postpone 
"  a  call  to  a  church,"  to  delay  the  home, 
and  to  give  the  first  years  of  one's  trained 
life  to  associated  work  in  city  or  country. 
It  is  difficult  to  say  where  the  need  is  the 
greater.  The  principle  is  equally  applica- 
ble to  the  congested  wards  of  a  city  and 
to  the  sparser  settlements  of  the  country. 
I  am  confident  that  a  term  of  service  in 
a  well-organized  and  well-manned  group 
will  give  one  an  impulse  throughout  the 
after  ministry  for  which  there  is  no  equiv- 
alent. 

I  refer  to  one  other  influence,  which 
reaches  within  the  period  of  education  and 
is  really  a  part  of  it,  whether  we  formally 
recognize  it  or  not,  namely,  the  interest 
which  attaches  to  the  moral  movements  of 
one's  time.     This  interest  may  often  seem 


BY   EDUCATION  57 

to  be  too  absorbing  for  the  best  intellect- 
ual discipline,  but  it  cannot  be,  and  ought 
not  to  be,  ignored.  The  educated  man 
cannot  afford  to  separate  himself  from  any 
movement  which  is  to  affect  in  vital  ways 
his  own  future,  or  the  future  of  those  with 
whom  he  may  have  to  do. 

The  American  church  has  passed 
through  two  great  moral  awakenings,  and 
is  now  passing  through  a  third.  What  if 
the  young  men  of  their  generation  had  not 
heard  that  first  personal  call  to  modern 
missions !  Suppose  the  now  memorable 
and  well-nigh  accomplished  word  of  Mills 
to  his  comrades — "  We  ought  to  carry  the 
gospel  to  dark  and  heathen  lands,  and  we 
can  do  it  if  we  will  "  —  had  passed  through 
the  churches  unheeded ;  can  any  one  calcu- 
late what  the  state  of  religion  would  have 
been  in  that  generation,  or  even  in  this  ? 
Or  can  any  one  measure  the  possible  moral 
result  of  a  like  denial  of  the  anti-slavery 
conflict  ?  The  initiative  in  this  conflict 
can  hardly  be  credited  to  young  men. 
Neither  can  it  be  said  that  the  conflict  was 
assured  till "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  was  read 
in  the  homes,  and  the  speeches  of  Seward 


58     THE   MAKING   OF   THE   PREACHER 

and  Sumner  and  Lincoln  were  read  in  the 
schools  and  colleges  of  the  land.  The 
present  movement  in  behalf  of  social  right- 
eousness waits  in  like  manner  full  recogni- 
tion from  the  young  men  of  the  country,  es- 
pecially from  those  in  the  process  of  edu- 
cation ;  for  the  movement  calls  for  insight 
and  sagacity,  as  well  as  for  consecration. 
The  man  who  helps  here  must  be  both 
trained  and  consecrated,  and  training  and 
consecration  rest  alike  upon  the  interest 
which  can  be  awakened.  I  commend  to 
you,  in  your  immediate  outlook  upon  the 
ministry,  the  utterance  of  Lyman  Beecher 
in  his  forecast  of  his  own  times :  "  I  read 
the  signs  of  the  times.  I  felt  as  if  the 
conversion  of  the  world  to  Christ  was 
near.  It  was  with  such  views  of  the  future 
that  from  the  beginning  I  consecrated  my- 
self to  Christ  with  special  reference  to  the 
scenes  which  I  saw  to  be  opening  upon 
the  world.  I  have  never  laid  out  great 
plans.  I  have  always  waited,  and  watched 
the  fulfillment  of  prophecy,  and  followed 
the  leadings  of  Providence.  From  the 
beginning  my  mind  has  taken  in  the 
church  of  God,  my  country,  and  the  world 


BY   EDUCATION  59 

as  given  to  Christ.  It  is  this  which  has 
widened  the  scope  of  my  activity  beyond 
the  common  sphere  of  pastoral  labor." 

How  far  can  we  educate  the  preacher  ? 
We  cannot  guarantee  the  individual  man. 
Out  of  any  given  number  in  training  for 
the  pulpit,  one  or  more  will  quite  surely  fail 
to  become  preachers,  though  failure  will  not 
always  follow  the  prediction.  But  the  pro- 
cess will  go  on  to  its  large  results.  Educa- 
tion, especially  the  education  which  opens 
into  the  ministry,  is  an  ideal  world,  in 
which  one  learns  to  Hve  till  he  becomes 
in  some  sense  superior  to  the  world  of 
tradition  and  circumstance  and  struggle 
which  lies  before  him.  It  has  its  own  dis- 
cipline, always  severe  and  exacting.  It 
allows  no  interferences  with  its  aims  and 
standards.  But  it  is  not  narrow  or  arti- 
ficial. It  offers  the  inspiration  of  the 
master,  it  introduces  the  stimulus  of  the 
group,  and  it  stands  open  to  the  moral 
enthusiasm  of  the  age.  It  is  a  world  by 
no  means  free  from  doubts  or  temptations. 
Not  all  is  gain  to  those  within  it.  Much 
power  has  to  be  expended  in  resistance  to 
dangerous  forces  which  inhere  in  its  very 


6o  THE  MAKING  OF  THE  PREACHER 

life.  But  it  is  a  world  of  great  incentives, 
of  stirring  fellowships,  and  of  honorable 
ambitions.  It  cannot  deliver  the  preacher, 
but  it  can  present  the  scholar  furnished 
for  his  task,  and  the  man  made  ready  and 
expectant. 


Ill 

THE    UNMAKING    PROCESS 

The  subject  of  to-day  will  carry  us  alto- 
gether within  the  life  and  work  of  the 
preacher.  I  am  to  speak  of  the  forces 
and  influences  which  stand  in  one  way  or 
another  for  his  unmaking.  The  subject 
of  my  lecture  is  The  Unmaking  Process, 
if  that  can  be  called  a  process  which  may 
have  no  clear  sequence  of  causes.  What 
is  cause  at  one  time  may  be  effect  at  an- 
other time.  What  is  cause  with  one  man 
may  be  effect  with  another  man.  All  that 
we  can  say  is  that  there  are  influences 
which  are  continually  present  to  under- 
mine or  disintegrate  or  demoralize  the 
preacher.  They  may  be  resisted.  And 
in  so  far  as  they  are  resisted,  the  preacher 
has  the  advantage  which  always  attends 
the  successful  defense  of  anything  which 
is  as  sacred  as  preaching.  I  do  not  wish 
to  make  this  lecture  a  chapter  on  the  moral 


62  THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS 

deterioration  of  ministers.  It  will  answer 
its  purpose  if  I  can  expose  and  set  forth 
with  the  right  emphasis  some  of  the  more 
subtle  influences  which  are  working  to  undo 
the  preacher,  or  to  neutralize  his  power. 

The  foe  which  lies  in  wait  for  the 
preacher  from  beginning  to  end  is  unreal- 
ity. I  do  not  know  whether  the  danger 
is  greater  at  the  beginning  or  at  the  end, 
but  I  naturally  dwell  in  your  presence 
more  upon  the  danger  at  the  beginning. 
It  is  always  difficult  to  be  real,  but  never 
more  difficult  than  when  one  tries  at  first 
to  put  all  his  newly  acquired  powers  to 
use. 

Preaching  consists  in  the  right  corre- 
spondence between  the  apprehension  and 
the  expression  of  a  given  truth.  The  mo- 
rality of  preaching  lies  at  this  point,  just 
where  also  its  effectiveness  lies.  Preach- 
ing becomes  unmoral,  if  not  immoral,  when 
the  preacher  allows  the  expression  of  truth 
to  go  beyond  the  apprehension  of  it.  This 
is  unreality  in  the  pulpit.  Doubtless  some 
unreal  preaching  is  effective,  but  never  for 
long  time.  The  law  is,  that  the  power  of 
the  pulpit  corresponds  to  the  clearness  and 


THE  UNMAKING  PROCESS  63 

vividness  of  the  preacher's  apprehension  / 
of  truth.  The  preacher  who  really  believes 
the  half  truth  will  have  more  power  than 
the  preacher  who  half  believes  the  truth. 
But  it  is  almost  equally  true  that  preach- 
ing may  fail  for  want  of  adequate  expres- 
sion. Hence  the  occasion  for  the  art  of 
sermonizing,  or  for  the  art  of  preaching  ; 
the  art,  that  is,  of  making  the  expression  of 
truth  satisfy  the  apprehension  of  it.  This 
art,  because  it  is  an  art,  has  its  own  moral 
danger.  I  shall  speak  of  other  phases  of 
the  art  in  my  next  lecture,  but  I  now  touch 
upon  the  moral  element  involved  in  it. 

Unreality  comes  into  preaching  usually 
at  one  of  these  three  points  :  First, 
through  the  commitment  of  a  truth  to 
some  one  faculty  exclusively,  —  to  the  rea- 
son, or  the  imagination,  or  the  emotions. 
Logic,  as  we  well  know,  may  lead  us  into 
the  impossible,  the  unbelievable.  The  con- 
clusion of  the  dogma  of  an  arbitrary  elec- 
tion in  the  dogma  of  infant  damnation  was 
logical  enough,  but  it  could  not  find  accept- 
ance in  the  category  of  Christian  doctrine. 
It  could  never  gain  the  consent  of  any 
other  faculty  than  the  logical  faculty.    Out- 


64  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

side  the  sphere  of  logic  it  was  reckoned  im- 
possible, unbelievable.  The  imagination 
and  the  emotions  cannot  be  trusted  alone 
any  more  than  the  reason.  Things  are 
not  necessarily  true  because  we  want  them 
to  be  true,  nor  because  we  can  describe 
them  as  if  they  were  true.  Nothing  can  be 
more  unreal  than  the  work  of  the  imagi- 
nation when  it  is  divorced  from  feeling,  or 
when  it  advances  in  some  directions  beyond 
the  power  of  feeling.  It  is  for  this  reason, 
I  suppose,  that  the  descriptions  of  the  fu- 
ture torment  of  the  wicked,  as  given  by  the 
old  preachers,  are  as  a  rule  so  ineffective. 
They  are  certainly  no  more  effective  than 
the  descriptions  of  the  dramatists.  But  the 
preacher  is  more  closely  bound  to  reality 
than  the  dramatist,  although  reality  is  the 
mark  of  genuineness  in  all  literature.  I 
emphasize  the  danger  of  intrusting  truth 
to  any  one  faculty.  The  test  of  reality  is 
the  consent  of  the  whole  nature.  A  man 
has  no  right  to  say,  I  believe,  unless  the 
whole  man  believes.  No  creed  can  live 
which  is  repeated  under  the  protest  of  any 
part  of  the  consecrated  nature. 

A  second  point  at  which  unreality  may 


THE  UNMAKING  PROCESS  65 

come  into  the  pulpit  is  through  undue 
striving  after  effect.  The  motive  may  be 
right,  the  preacher  wants  to  get  a  hearing 
for  the  truth.  When  Robert  Hall  says 
that  "  miracles  were  the  bell  of  the  uni- 
verse which  God  rang  to  call  men  to  hear 
his  Son,"  we  see  the  propriety  of  the  figure. 
Truth  must  have  a  hearing.  But  when  we 
take  unfit,  exaggerated,  unscrupulous  meth- 
ods to  get  a  hearing  for  the  truth,  we  rob 
it  of  its  reality.  Here  is  the  vice  of  sensa- 
tionalism. Truth  in  the  hands  of  a  sensa- 
tionalist does  not  impress  us  with  its  reality. 
We  discount  so  much  that  the  little  which 
is  left  is  ineffective.  It  must  be  the  same 
to  the  man  himself  who  deals  in  the  sen- 
sational method.  He  cannot  take  the  truth 
seriously,  in  so  far  as  he  is  using  it  for  mere 
effect.  And  all  like  strivings  for  effect, 
whether  in  style  of  speech  or  manner  of 
delivery,  fall  under  the  same  charge  of  un- 
reality. 

And  the  third  point  at  which  danger 
comes  in  is  through  undue  stimulus  from 
an  audience.  Extempore  preachers  are 
often  charged  with  rhetorical  courage. 
They  borrow  their  courage,  the  charge  is, 


66  THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS 

from  the  situation.  They  say  things  in 
public  as  they  would  not  say  them  in 
private,  if  indeed  they  would  say  them  at 
all.  Rhetorical  courage  is  not  necessarily 
unreal  courage.  One  may  legitimately  do 
that  on  an  occasion  which  he  could  not 
do  without  the  occasion.  We  must  give 
a  large  liberty  to  public  utterance.  That 
may  be  perfectly  real  to  one  in  the  pre- 
sence of  men,  and  under  the  common  feel- 
ing when  once  it  is  awakened,  which  could 
not  be  real  in  the  same  degree  to  one  when 
alone.  Still  it  is  a  part  of  the  spiritual  obli- 
gation of  the  preacher  not  to  be  dependent 
for  the  reality  of  great  truths  upon  the  oc- 
casional excitement.  He  is  to  be  the  stead- 
ier force  among  men.  He  is  to  make  the 
positive,  as  Mr.  Emerson  says,  stronger 
than  the  superlative.  He  ought  to  have 
no  need  of  exaggeration.  He  must  never 
allow  himself  to  utter  as  truths  any  of 
those  sentiments  which  cannot  be  verified 
to  some  degree  in  the  common  experience. 
These  are  the  dangers  which  threaten 
the  preacher  at  the  beginning.  They  all 
come  from  the  failure  to  get  the  right  cor- 
respondence between  the  apprehension  of 


THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS  67 

truth  and  the  expression  of  it.  I  do  not 
say  that  they  are  greater  at  the  begin- 
ning of  one's  work  than  at  the  end.  The 
young  preacher  may  want  to  express  too 
much.  The  older  preacher  may  not  dare 
to  express  enough.  Certainly,  if  conserva- 
tism is  the  mark  of  age,  it  has  its  dangers. 
There  is  a  saving  of  truth  which  is  a  los- 
ing, a  fear  for  the  truth  which  comes  to  be 
a  distrust  of  it.  The  ultra  conservatism  of 
the  pulpit  which  stands  more  and  more  for 
the  defense  of  truth,  whose  chief  concern 
is  that  the  truth  shall  suffer  no  harm,  makes 
the  preacher  himself  less  and  less  an  out- 
going force.  He,  too,  becomes  unreal,  be- 
cause he  no  longer  comes  up  to  the  measure 
of  the  truth. 

Next  to  the  danger  of  the  preacher  from 
unreality,  I  put  the  danger  which  comes 
from  the  want  of  direct  and  wholesome 
criticism.  Criticism  of  a  certain  sort  there 
is  in  abundance,  but  it  never  reaches  the 
preacher's  ears.  For  aught  he  knows,  un- 
less he  is  a  man  of  rare  insight,  he  is  ex- 
empt from  criticism.  Contrast  his  situation 
with  that  of  the  young  advocate,  who  makes 
his  plea  before  the  jury  in  the  presence  of 


68  THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS 

an  alert  antagonist,  or  even  with  that  of  the 
young  author,  who  waits  the  word  of  the 
reviewer.  The  want  of  an  open  antagonist 
or  critic  is,  I  think,  the  greatest  disadvan- 
tage of  an  intellectual  sort  from  which  the 
pulpit  suffers. 

When  Mr.  Webster  was  at  Marshfield, 
an  old  friend  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Webster, 
were  you  ever  practically  helped  by  any- 
body in  forming  your  style  ?  "  "  Yes,"  Mr. 
Webster  answered  at  once.  "  Soon  after  I 
was  admitted  to  the  bar,  I  gave  a  Fourth  of 
July  oration  at  Portsmouth.  The  editor  of 
a  magazine  in  Philadelphia  published  the 
oration  with  a  running  comment  upon  it. 
Taking  it  up  part  by  part,  he  said :  *  This 
passage  shows  good  reasoning ;  here  is  a  bit 
of  eloquence;  but  here  is  a  lot  of  rhetoric, 
mere  wording.  If  the  speaker  cannot  learn 
to  use  simple  and  sincere  language,  he  can 
never  be  the  orator  for  the  common  peo- 
ple.' I  read  that  criticism  over  and 
over,"  Mr.  Webster  said,  "  and  finally  con- 
cluded that  if  I  was  to  get  my  living  by 
talking  to  plain  people,  I  must  have  a  plain 
style." 

How  invaluable  a  just  and   competent 


THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS  69 

critic  would  be  to  a  young  preacher.  But 
instead  of  that  the  average  preacher  has 
much  to  fear  from  flattering  tongues.  Few 
men  are  insensible  to  flattery.  And  preach- 
ers are  more  liable,  not  susceptible,  to  this 
enervating  experience  than  any  other  class 
of  men,  with  the  possible  exception  of  ac- 
tors. I  wonder  at  the  liberties  which  men 
and  women  take  in  this  regard  with  the 
preacher.  They  seem  to  assume  that  the 
preacher  is  a  non-resistant.  Appreciation 
is  a  virtue.  There  is  none  too  much  of  it. 
It  is  not  only  grateful,  it  may  be  inspiring. 
But  flattery,  or  mere  compliment,  or  even 
unthinking  acquiescence,  each  and  all  are 
enervating  to  the  last  degree.  As  far  as 
they  have  an  effect,  they  hold  the  preacher 
to  his  lower  levels.  Far  better  the  stimu- 
lus, the  spur,  if  need  be,  the  goad.  I  count 
it  the  sure  mark  of  deterioration  when  one 
begins  to  be  content  and  satisfied  with 
himself,  because  others,  it  matters  not 
whether  they  be  few  or  many,  are  appar- 
ently satisfied  with  him,  and  say  so.  In 
the  absence  of  open  criticism  the  preacher 
must  learn  how  to  interpret  facts  which 
stand  for  criticism.     Absence  is  criticism  : 


70  THE   UNMAKING  PROCESS 

inattention  is  criticism ;  unresponsiveness 
is  criticism ;  and  the  failure  to  secure  ap- 
preciable results  may  be  criticism.  The 
preacher  is  the  last  man  who  can  afford 
to  ignore  or  misinterpret  facts  which  have 
a  bearing  on  his  personal  or  professional 
growths. 

You  will  not  be  surprised  when  I  remind 
you  that  the  preacher  has  much  to  fear 
from  the  dissipation  of  personal  energy.  A 
very  competent  authority,  himself  enough 
on  the  inside  to  observe,  has  said  that  the 
two  besetting  sins  of  the  ministry  are  lazi- 
ness and  lying.  By  lying  he  means  the 
essential  thing  about  which  we  have  been 
talking  under  the  name  of  unreality.  But 
by  laziness  he  means,  I  take  it,  the  disposi- 
tion or  the  willingness  to  do  the  lesser  in 
place  of  the  greater  duty.  This  is  the  subtle 
refinement  of  laziness  always  and  every- 
where, the  postponement  of  the  hard  and 
exacting  duty  beyond  the  one  which  is 
easier  and  more  agreeable.  The  minister 
has  an  unwonted  range  of  duties.  Every 
day  gives  a  large  choice.  He  can  satisfy  his 
conscience  by  keeping  at  work  indiscrimi- 
nately.   He  can  be  the  busiest  man  in  town, 


THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS  71 

and  yet  leave  his  great  task  undone.  He  is 
simply  working  out  of  proportion.  He  can 
do  this ;  few  other  men  can.  And  every 
preacher  is  working  out  of  proportion  when 
he  does  not  make  preaching  the  one  high, 
commanding,  inspiring  duty  of  his  life.  I 
do  not  underestimate  the  exactions  or  the 
joys  which  belong  to  the  pastorate.  But  I 
do  say  that  the  imperative  obligation  of  the 
minister  is  to  his  pulpit.  And  when  dis- 
tractions multiply  and  duties  apparently 
conflict,  he  ought  to  be  able  to  hear,  and 
to  know  that  he  must  obey,  the  mandate  of 
the  pulpit,  — "  Enter  into  thy  closet  and 
shut  thy  door." 

No,  I  do  not  mean  this  literally.  I  com- 
mend to  you  the  necessity  to  the  preacher 
of  the  power  of  mental  abstraction.  A 
preacher  cannot  altogether  control  time 
or  place.  He  ought  not  to  expect  to  do 
this.  He  must  make  allowance  for  inter- 
ruptions. As  Dr.  Payson  used  to  say, 
"  The  man  who  wants  to  see  me  is  the 
man  whom  I  want  to  see,"  a  rule  of  pre- 
sent application,  barring  book  agents  and 
college  presidents.  The  preacher  who 
excludes   himself   from  men   in  the  time 


72  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

of  their  want  or  necessity  is  the  preacher 
whose  sermons  will  in  time  betray  this 
seclusion.  What,  then,  is  the  preacher's 
defense  ?  The  power  of  concentration  or 
of  abstraction,  the  power  to  hold  a  subject 
in  thought  and  in  heart  under  interruption 
or  in  the  midst  of  distracting  influences. 
A  preacher  ought  to  consider  it  one  part 
of  his  mental  training  to  make  himself 
reasonably  independent  of  conditions.  He 
ought  to  be  able  to  work  on  a  train,  if  he 
has  elbow  room,  not  perhaps  as  well,  but 
as  resolutely,  as  in  his  study.  He  ought 
to  be  able  to  think  clearly  and  calmly,  or 
clearly  and  passionately,  in  the  midst  of 
alien  surroundings,  as  well  as  when  he  is 
within  reach  of  his  favorite  authors,  pro- 
vided of  course  he  does  not  need  to  con- 
sult them. 

And  beyond  this  consecration  of  the 
preacher  to  the  pulpit,  I  advise  strongly 
that  a  preacher  seek  first  and  above  all 
things  to  gain  a  secure  standing  in  his 
own  pulpit.  No  people  have  the  like 
claim  upon  him  with  his  own  people ;  and 
no  causes  have  a  like  claim  upon  him  at 
the  beginning  with  the  cause  for  which  his 


THE  UNMAKING  PROCESS  73 

own  pulpit  stands.  Later  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  of  the  growing  range 
of  a  preacher's  activity,  but  at  the  first,  a 
preacher  has  the  imperative  duty,  which 
he  owes  alike  to  himself  and  to  his  people, 
of  concentrating  upon  his  own  pulpit.  I 
commend  the  example  of  Dr.  Gordon  at 
the  opening  of  his  pastorate  at  the  Old 
South  Church,  Boston,  who  resolved  that 
for  three  years  he  would  make  no  public 
addresses.  He  kept  his  resolution.  To- 
day he  has  the  freedom  of  the  country. 

There    is  a  very  strong  though  subtle 
influence  which  is  at  work  toward  the  un- 
making of  the  preacher,  coming  up  out  of 
the  social  situation.     The  social  situation 
is  continually  thrusting  the  question  into 
the  preacher's  face.  How  much  ought  you 
to  sacrifice  for  the  people  about  you,  most 
of  whom  are  in  circumstances  of  comfort, 
a  few  in  circumstances  of  luxury  ?     If  he 
were  a  pioneer  in  a  new  country,  or  if  he 
were  a  missionary  among  some  peoples, 
this  question  would  not  arise.     A  part  of 
the  heroism  of  the  missionary  in  distinc- 
tion from  the  routine  of  the  parish  min- 
ister lies  in  the  social  sacrifice.     There  is 


74  THE  UNMAKING  PROCESS 

evident  need  of  that  sacrifice.  Hardship, 
privation,  possibly  suffering,  show  the  price 
of  his  consecration.  But  why  should  a 
minister,  the  insidious  question  will  surely 
arise,  whose  lot  is  cast  in  the  midst  of 
social  plenty  and  refinement, — why  should 
he  sacrifice  anything  ?  and  if  he  is  to  make 
no  sacrifice,  why  should  he  not  want  and 
expect  the  many  and  various  privileges  for 
which  society  stands  ?  The  question  be- 
comes a  very  absorbing  one  when  once  it 
begins  to  enter  seriously  into  the  thought 
of  a  minister,  or  into  the  thought  of  his 
family.  And  there  is  no  end  to  its  per- 
plexities. It  has  more  power  of  petty  dis- 
tractions than  all  other  questions  put  to- 
gether. The  Presbyterian  Church  seems 
to  have  settled  the  difficulty  in  the  terms 
of  the  call  which  a  local  church  extends  to 
a  pastor.     The  call  runs  in  this  wise  :  — 

"  And  that  you  may  be  free  from  worldly 
cares  and  avocations,  we  hereby  promise 
and  oblige  ourselves  to   pay  to  you  the 

sum  of in  regular  quarterly  (or  half 

yearly,  or  yearly)  payments,  during  the 
time  of  your  being  and  continuing  the 
regular  pastor  of  this  church." 


THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS  75 

This  seems  to  settle  the  question;  but 
if  the  terms  of  a  call  are  freely  met,  this 
would  be  far  from  a  settlement  of  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  social  situation.  The  salaries 
of  ministers  are  graduated  everywhere  very 
closely  to  ordinary  expense.  They  are  in 
this  respect  like  the  salaries  of  teachers 
and  professors,  or  for  that  matter  like  the 
salaries  of  congressmen  and  judges,  the 
salaries  of  any  persons  outside  the  com- 
mercial classes.  But  the  wants  of  a  min- 
ister and  his  family  are  the  same  with 
those  of  the  average  members  of  the  com- 
munity in  which  they  live.  Their  tastes 
are  probably  rather  above  the  average,  and 
beyond  these  lies  the  appeal  of  ambition 
and  privilege  and  opportunity. 

What,  now,  can  the  preacher  do  ?  I  say 
unhesitatingly  he  must  accept  in  the  main 
the  social  situation  as  it  is,  and  find  his 
satisfying  compensations  in  the  peculiar 
aims  and  opportunities  of  his  work.  By 
this  I  do  not  mean  that  the  business  side 
of  the  ministry  is  to  be  made  light  of.  It 
is  one  of  the  first  duties  of  a  minister  to 
see  that  a  parish  gives  for  its  own  uses  up 
to  the  full  limit  of  self-respect.     Nothing 


76  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

is  gained  to  charity,  but  everything  is 
lost,  by  condoning  with  stinginess.  That 
parish  will  give  most  to  foreign  missions 
which  is  trained  to  meet  its  own  obliga- 
tions to  the  full.  But  when  this  has  been 
done,  I  know  of  nothing  further  to  be  done 
except  for  a  preacher  to  turn  himself  with 
contentment  and  satisfaction  to  his  work. 
He  cannot  work  under  a  social  grievance. 
He  cannot  preach  and  complain.  But  a 
great  many  preachers  are  complaining.  I 
think  that  there  is  more  complaint  in  the 
ministry  than  in  any  other  profession  or 
calling ;  and  of  the  various  branches  of  the 
church,  I  think  that  there  is  the  most  rest- 
lessness and  complaint  in  the  Congrega- 
tional ministry.  The  Methodist  system 
determines  a  preacher's  lot  and  in  part,  at 
least,  his  disposition  toward  it.  The  Epis- 
copal ideal  supports  the  minister  through 
the  dignity  and  separateness  of  his  position. 
The  Congregational  ministry  is  essentially 
democratic.  That  means  that  it  feels  the 
strain  of  social  equality.  The  very  spirit 
which,  as  I  shall  show  you  by  and  by,  makes 
it  difficult  for  us  to  maintain  our  churches 
in  certain  localities,  makes  it  difficult  to 


THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS  77 

maintain  our  ministers  in  a  state  of  mind 
reasonably  free  from  social  competitions 
and  embarrassments.  And  therefore  I  ap- 
prise you  in  advance  of  the  peculiar  danger 
from  this  source. 

Let  me  go  a  step  further  in  the  same 
direction  and  speak  of  the  loss  of  power 
to  the  preacher  from  frequent  changes.  I 
conceive  that  the  shortness  and  change- 
ableness  of  the  pastorate  are  doing  a  great 
deal  at  present  toward  the  unmaking  of 
the  preacher.  I  know  that  there  are  two 
sides  to  this  matter;  and  especially  that 
it  may  seem  to  have  a  different  aspect  as 
one  looks  at  it  from  the  side  of  the  min- 
ister or  of  the  congregation.  It  is,  I  be- 
lieve, among  the  traditions  of  this  place, 
that  when  a  student  asked  Mr.  Beecher, 
"  What  was  the  special  reason  for  short 
pastorates,"  he  got  the  quick  reply,  "The 
mercy  of  God." 

Permanency  in  the  pastorate,  other 
things  being  equal,  is  a  tremendous  source 
of  power  to  the  pulpit.  It  gives  the 
preacher  the  advantage  of  the  accumula- 
tions in  his  personality.  The  old  rhetori- 
cians used  to  say  that  one  office  of   an 


78  THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS 

introduction  was  to  present  the  speaker 
and  gain  acceptance  for  him  with  his  audi- 
ence. The  preacher,  who  rises  in  the  pul- 
pit after  years  of  preaching,  is  a  known 
man,  and  if  known  probably  honored  and 
loved.  If  he  has  shown  intellectual  ad- 
vance, the  congregation  is  expectant  of 
more  truth.  When  he  applies  that  in 
hand,  his  wisdom  in  the  past  enforces  his 
application.  And  when  he  appeals  to  his 
people,  every  influence  from  character  and 
association  and  personal  kindness  and  sac- 
rifice goes  with  the  appeal. 

There  is  but  one  valid  argument  on  the 
other  side,  speaking  now  in  the  interest 
of  the  truth,  of  which  I  am  aware.  It  is 
the  argument  from  freshness,  the  chance 
for  the  new  truth  or  the  new  setting  of  it. 
But  this  all  depends  upon  the  question  as 
to  whether  the  preacher's  past  is  for  him 
or  against  him.  If  he  cannot  improve 
upon  that,  if  he  repeats  himself,  if  he  is  no 
more  to  the  truth  than  formerly,  then  he 
ought  to  go.  But  if  he  can  keep  himself 
abreast  of  truth,  continually  in  advance  of 
his  people,  and  maintain  the  good  cheer 
and  enthusiasm  of  his  personal  faith,  then 


THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS  79 

he  ought  to  stay,  so  far  as  the  interests  of 
truth  are  concerned. 

And  now  about  other  interests,  and  espe- 
cially about  that  of  the  preacher  himself. 
The  community,  it  goes  without  saying,  is 
usually  the  loser  when  a  man  is  called 
away  under  the  urgent  solicitation  of  an- 
other parish.  If  this  were  not  the  case, 
calls  from  one  parish  to  another  would  be 
very  scarce.  But  how  about  the  minister 
himself?  It  must  be  true  that  the  man 
who  is  under  frequent  call  to  leave  his  par- 
ish can  afford  to  stay.  At  least,  he  need 
not  fear  lest  the  last  opportunity  has  come 
to  him.  But  can  he  satisfy  the  proper 
demand  for  what  may  be  the  larger  field  ? 
Let  him  ask  himself  if  he  has  enlarged  his 
field  to  the  utmost.  Has  he  pushed  out 
into  all  legitimate  relations  to  other  fields 
of  work  entirely  germane  to  the  preacher  ? 
One  of  the  most  popular  of  our  younger 
preachers  has  declined  a  call  to  a  large  city 
on  the  ground,  in  part,  that  his  influence  is 
extending  into  the  colleges,  and  that  he 
cannot  afford  to  forego  that  extension  of 
his  ministry.  That  fact  suggests  one  of  the 
new  sources  of  pulpit  power.    Every  board 


8o  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

of  preachers  in  the  colleges  makes  ten  men 
necessary  where  one  served  for  the  place 
a  generation  ago.  The  work  of  the  pulpit 
is  growing  more  intensive  and  extensive. 
Preaching  has  to  be  clearer  and  more 
direct,  more  to  the  point,  than  ever  before. 
And  it  has  to  do  with  wider  relations.  I 
am  very  careful  about  advising  interfer- 
ence with  social  and  semi-political  issues 
till  one  is  thoroughly  trained  and  prepared 
for  such  business.  But  this  outer  ministry 
has  a  place  in  every  tried,  enlarged,  influen- 
tial pastorate,  provided  the  preacher  shows 
personal  aptitude.  I  see  no  need  of  fre- 
quent changes  of  pastorate,  in  the  interest 
of  freshness,  either  to  preacher  or  people,  if 
the  preacher  will  use  all  his  opportunities 
to  keep  himself  in  close  and  quickening 
relations  to  truth  and  men.  I  cannot 
overestimate  the  power  to  the  pulpit  of 
men  whose  personality  has  begun  to  count 
for  something  before  the  public.  Usu- 
ally this  power  comes  from  men  who  are 
placed.  They  are  institutions.  What  mat- 
ters it  just  where  the  preacher  is,  if  when 
he  speaks  he  gets  the  wider  hearing,  if  the 
book  he  prints   is    read,  if  the  cause  he 


THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS  8i 

advocates  is  forwarded,  if  the  inspiration 
of  his  Hfe  and  work  goes  out  from  heart  to 
heart.  I  am  not  saying  that  a  man  should 
stay  always  where  he  begins,  though  I 
think  he  ought  to  stay  long  enough  to  pay 
the  people  for  having  taught  him  his  ap- 
prenticeship;  but  I  am  protesting  against 
the  restlessness  which  comes  with  so  great 
frequency  of  change  in  the  pastorate. 
Greater  permanency  would,  I  am  sure,  give 
us  better  churches  and  better  preachers. 

One  of  the  chief  sources  of  discourage- 
ment in  one's  early  ministry  is  disappoint- 
ment in  men.  This  disappointment  does 
not  usually  extend  to  loss  of  faith  in  human 
nature,  though  a  tendency  to  generalize 
from  a  few  particular  cases  of  disappoint- 
ment is  very  strong,  and  the  result  in  such 
instances  very  disheartening.  Whenever 
the  result  is  suspicion,  distrust,  or  personal 
bitterness,  a  preacher's  power  is  greatly 
lessened,  and  sometimes  utterly  lost.  But 
the  danger  which  I  now  have  in  mind, 
while  less,  is  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  it 
comes  to  one  early.  I  recall  with  gratitude 
the  advice  which  I  received  as  a  younger 
man   from    the   Hon.  Alpheus    Hardy,  of 


82  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

Boston,  "  Don't  expect  too  much  of  men." 
No  layman  within  my  knowledge  had 
higher  standards  than  he.  No  man  had 
a  more  scrupulous  sense  of  honor  in  busi- 
ness or  a  broader  sense  of  public  obliga- 
tion. But  his  words  were  wise.  I  have 
had  frequent  occasion  to  prove  their  mean- 
ing. Men  at  large  are  not  only  under 
greater  temptations  than  we  may  suppose, 
but  they  are  under  greater  restrictions  in 
the  matter  of  right  doing  than  we  may  sup- 
pose. I  think  that  the  pulpit  often  lays  a 
burden  on  the  individual  man  which  ought 
to  be  shared  by  society.  The  preacher  is 
continually  saying  to  the  man  in  business 
or  politics,  or  in  any  of  the  departments  of 
worldly  struggle,  repent,  repent.  And  the 
call  is  none  too  strong.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  what  if  the  individual  man  replies, 
as  he  does  by  his  silence  and  neglect, 
"  How  can  I  repent  ?  how  can  I  repent 
alone.?  I  represent  my  calling,  my  busi- 
ness, my  party,  my  sect.  When  you  ask 
me  to  repent,  you  virtually  ask  me  to  leave 
my  business  or  calling  or  party  or  sect. 
For  when  I  have  done  all  that  I  can  to 
reform  the  situation  of  which  I  am  a  part, 


THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS  83 

I  am  still  a  party  to  very  much  which  you 
condemn  and  which  I  disapprove." 

Here  lies  the  argument  to-day,  gentle- 
men, for  the  training  of  the  social  con- 
science. I  do  not  say  that  we  have  no 
right  to  urge  individual  repentance,  and 
works  meet  for  repentance,  but  I  do  say 
that  we  have  no  right  to  expect  the  full 
and  proper  response  to  our  message  till 
we  have  made  the  conditions  more  nearly 
possible  for  personal  righteousness.  The 
call  to  repentance  which  we  send  out  must 
be  addressed  to  the  church,  to  society,  to 
every  calling  and  business  which  ought 
to  listen  and  obey.  We  ought  to  make 
it  harder  for  men  to  sin  and  more  possi- 
ble, if.  not  easier,  for  men  to  be  righteous. 
Meanwhile,  let  us  not  be  disappointed  in 
men,  if  we  can  see  discontent  and  struggle 
on  their  part.  Let  us  incorporate  every 
gain  in  ^^-^r- — nal  righteousness  into  public 
sentiment.  We  do  not  need  to-day  mere 
come-outers  ;  we  need  men  who  will  help 
from  within,  men  who  will  leave  their  busi- 
ness or  profession,  and  society  and  the 
state  and  the  church,  safer  places  to  live 
in  than  when  they  found  them. 


84  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

I  am  not  intending  to  speak  in  this  lec- 
ture, or  at  any  time,  about  the  great  lapses 
from  faith  or  from  righteousness  or  from 
God,  which  completely  undo  the  preacher. 
They  are  self-evident  in  their  application. 
I  speak  only  the  passing  word  about  the 
effect  of  intellectual  doubt  upon  the  power 
of  the  preacher.  The  effect  of  doubt  de- 
pends upon  the  kind  of  doubt.  There  is 
a  doubt  which  is  utterly  demoralizing. 
There  is  a  doubt  which  is  a  challenge  to 
sincere  and  brave  souls.  Who  questions 
the  effect  of  doubt  on  the  soul  of  Robert- 
son ?  What  mighty  and  passionate  sym- 
pathies it  gave  him  with  humanity.  What 
depth  of  view  it  gave  him  into  the  heart  of 
truth.  How  near  it  brought  him  to  the 
personal  Christ.  Doubt  of  such  a  nature, 
and  it  is  the  only  kind  worthy  of  a  strong 
and  sane  man,  may  have  an  incalculable 
power  for  good.  It  may  lead  the  way  into 
reality.  When  the  darkness  is  spent,  it  is 
the  true  light  which  shineth. 

The  most  serious  danger  to  the  preacher 
must  of  course  come  from  himself.  I  can- 
not make  clear  all  the  ways  in  which  it 
will  become  real  to  you.     But  there  is  one 


THE  UNMAKING  PROCESS  85 

aspect  of  the  danger  which  I  cannot  over- 
look, because  it  grows  with  the  true  growth 
and  success  of  the  preacher.     The  longer 
one  lives,  the  harder  one  works,  the  better 
in  some  senses  the  results  of  his  preach- 
ing, the  farther   apart  the  man  seems  to 
himself    to   be  from   the  truth  he  utters. 
I  do   not   see  how  it   can   be  otherwise. 
Ideals  must  outstrip  the  reality.     The  in- 
creasing  brightness   of   the   truth   brings 
out  more  clearly  personal  deficiencies  and 
shortcomings.      In  the  very  joy  of  preach- 
ing there  may  come  in  upon  one  the  sense 
of  personal  unworthiness  which   is  over- 
whelming.     The  success  which  one  may 
gain  may  seem  to  him  to  have  a  lower  in- 
terpretation.     He  cannot  accept  the  ver- 
dict of  the  hour.     He  anticipates  a  diviner 
judgment,  which  may  be  a  reversal  of  that 
which  has  apparently  been  rendered.     I 
am  about  to  read  you  an  extract  from  one 
of  the  greatest,  —  it  is  altogether  the  most 
searching  sermon  of  the  last  generation, 
that  of   Canon    Mozley  on   the  Reversal 
of  Human  Judgment.     I  count  each  year 
in  especial  danger  which  has  not  felt  the 
tonic  of  its  words. 


86  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

"  Suppose  any  supernatural  judge  should 
appear  in  the  world  now,  it  is  evident  the 
scene  he  would  create  would  be  one  to 
startle  us;  we  should  not  soon  be  used 
to  it ;  it  would  shock  and  appall ;  and  that 
from  no  other  cause  than  simply  its  reduc- 
tions ;  that  it  presented  characters  stripped 
bare,  denuded  of  what  was  irrelevant  to 
goodness,  and  only  with  their  moral  sub- 
stance left.  The  judge  would  take  no  cog- 
nizance of  a  rich  imagination,  power  of 
language,  poetical  gifts,  and  the  like,  in 
themselves,  as  parts  of  goodness,  any  more 
than  he  would  of  richness  and  prosperity ; 
and  the  moral  residuum  left  would  appear 
perhaps  a  bare  result.  The  first  look  of 
divine  justice  would  strike  us  as  injustice; 
it  would  be  too  pure  a  justice  for  us ;  we 
should  be  long  in  reconciling  ourselves  to 
it.  Justice  would  appear,  like  the  painter's 
gaunt  skeleton  of  emblematic  meaning,  to 
be  stalking  through  the  world,  smiting 
with  attenuation  luxuriating  forms  of  vir- 
tue. Forms,  changed  from  what  we  knew, 
would  meet  us,  strange,  unaccustomed 
forms,  and  we  would  have  to  ask  them 
who  they  were,  —  'You  were  flourishing 


THE  UNMAKING   PROCESS  87 

but  a  short  while  ago,  what  has  happened 
to  you  now  ? '  And  the  answer,  if  it  spoke 
the  truth,  would  be,  '  Nothing,  except  that 
now  much  which  lately  counted  as  good- 
ness counts  as  such  no  longer ;  we  are 
tried  by  a  new  moral  measure,  out  of 
which  we  issue  different  men  ;  gifts  which 
have  figured  as  goodness  remain  as  gifts, 
but  cease  to  be  goodness.'  Thus  would 
the  large  sweep  made  of  human  canoniza- 
tions act  like  blight  or  volcanic  fire  upon 
some  rich  landscape,  converting  the  luxury 
of  nature  into  a  dried-up  scene  of  bare 
stems  and  scorched  vegetation." 

Sometimes  I  say,  Yes,  more  and  more, 
this  sense  of  dissatisfaction  with  personal 
gifts,  this  sense  of  their  danger  as  substi- 
tutes for  plain  and  simple  righteousness, 
finds  a  place  in  the  heart  of  the  preacher. 
It  is  perhaps  as  much  a  sign  of  the  true 
spirit  and  of  the  growing  reality,  as  the 
trembling  knee  is  the  inseparable  sign  of 
eloquence.  The  preacher  has  the  right  to 
know  that  humility  is  the  one  sure  posses- 
sion which  gives  him  entrance  into  the 
high  places  of  his  high  calling. 


88  THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS 

"  Humble  must  be  if  to  heaven  we  go, 
High  is  the  roof  there,  but  the  gate  is  low." 

I  once  asked  Dr.  Philip  Schaff  to  preach 
for  me.  As  we  passed  through  the  door- 
way near  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  stairs,  he 
turned  to  me  and  said,  "  Don't  you  always 
feel  humble  when  you  go  through  this 
door  ?  '*  I  knew  at  least  that  he  felt  what 
he  said,  and  I  knew  that,  though  he  was 
not  distinctively  a  preacher,  w^e  should 
have  that  day  great  preaching,  and  we 
had  it. 

The  safety  of  the  preacher,  the  safe- 
guard from  himself,  lies  in  the  growth  of 
humility.  All  God's  chosen  ones  have 
had  it.  It  is  the  sure  and  fine  quality 
which  underlies  their  natures.  It  explains 
their  shrinkings  from  duty,  their  hesita- 
tions and  reluctance.  It  was  the  ground 
of  Moses'  protest,  —  "  Who  am  I  that  I 
should  go  in  unto  Pharaoh  ?  "  of  Isaiah's 
despair,  —  "I  am  undone,  because  I  am 
a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in  the 
midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips :  "  of 
Jeremiah's  shrinking,  —  "  Ah,  Lord  God, 
I  am  but  a  child :  "  of  the  abasement  and 
of  the  exaltation  of  Paul,  —  "  I  am  the  least 


THE   UNMAKING   PROCESS  89 

of  the  apostles;  I  am  not  worthy  to  be 
called  an  apostle."  "  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me." 

Gentlemen,  there  is  no  fellowship  so 
great  or  safe  or  assuring  as  that  into 
which  we  enter  through  humility. 


IV 

THE    PREACHER   AND    HIS    ART 

In  a  course  of  lectures  like  the  present, 
which  has  to  do  altogether  with  the  person- 
ality of  the  preacher,  due  account  must 
be  made  of  those  influences  coming  from 
his  work  or  from  his  surroundings,  which 
are  to  his  harm,  influences  which,  if  unde- 
tected and  unrestrained,  will  soon  or  late 
reach  the  man  himself,  and  take  the  heart 
out  of  his  preaching.  So  we  gave  up  the 
lecture  of  yesterday  to  the  consideration 
of  influences  of  this  nature.  I  confess  to 
you  that  it  is  with  a  sense  of  relief  that 
I  turn  again  to  those  constructive  forces 
and  habits  in  which  we  find  the  guarantee 
of  the  safety  and  power  of  the  preacher. 

I  have,  however,  a  misgiving  about  the 
lecture  of  to-day.  It  will  take  me,  beyond 
any  other  lecture  of  the  course,  into  the 
immediate  province  of  the  class  room.  I 
do  not  know  how  this  can  be  helped ;  but  I 


THE  PREACHER  AND   HIS   ART      91 

find  no  little  satisfaction  in  remembering 
that  if  by  any  chance  my  opinions  should 
not  coincide  with  those  of  the  department, 
no  greater  harm  will  come  to  you  than  this 
waste  of  words.  I  say  in  advance,  gentle- 
men, that  the  work  of  the  department  is 
the  essential  thing,  not  the  casual  utterance 
of  a  lecturer.  A  special  train  may  be  gen- 
erously given  the  right  of  way  for  a  trip, 
but  it  is  of  very  little  account  compared 
with  the  regular  travel  and  traffic  for  which 
the  road  was  built,  and  which  support  it. 

The  subject  of  to-day  is  the  Preacher, 
considered  as  an  Artist. 

There  is  no  reaction  upon  a  preacher  ' 
like^  that  from  his  work.  That  creates  a 
habit.  In  the  lecture  of  yesterday,  I  spoke 
of  the  morality  of  preaching  as  consisting 
m  the  right  correspondence  between  the 
apprehension  of  truth  and  the  expression 
of  it.  Preaching  becomes  unmoral,  if  not 
immoral,  when  the  expression  of  a  truth  is 
beyond  the  apprehension  of  it.  Then  the 
preacher  crosses  over  the  line  into  unreal- 
ity. But  I  also  said  that  the  effectiveness 
of  preaching  lies  in  this  same  correspond- 
ence.    It  is   just  as   necessary  that  the 


92  THE   PREACHER 

expression  of  truth  should  satisfy  the  ap- 
prehension or  realization  of  it,  as  that  the 
expression  should  not  surpass  the  realiza- 
tion. When  the  attempt  is  made  to  com- 
municate more  truth  than  one  has  in  actual 
possession,  or  when  feeling  is  simulated, 
preaching  becomes,  so  far  as  the  preacher 
is  concerned,  an  immorality.  But  this  is 
not  the  danger  of  the  majority  of  preachers, 
certainly  not  at  the  beginning.  The  dan- 
ger then  is  that  the  preacher  will  not  com- 
municate the  truth  he  has,  or  express  the 
feeling  which  he  actually  entertains  towards 
it.  Hence  the  occasion  for  the  art  of 
preaching  or  sermonizing,  the  art  of  mak- 
ing the  communication  of  truth  satisfy  the 
personal  apprehension  of  it.  In  so  far, 
therefore,  as  preaching  is  an  art,  the 
preacher  is  an  artist,  and  ought  to  have 
the  conscience  of  an  artist;  conscience, 
I  say,  for  conscience  is  just  as  much  con- 
cerned with  the  communication  of  truth 
as  it  is  with  the  search  after  it.  The  con- 
science of  the  preacher  as  an  inquirer  or 
believer  is  never  at  variance  with  the  con- 
science of  the  preacher  when  he  is  doing  his 
work  as  an  artist,  and  never  demands  that 


AND   HIS   ART  93 

this  work  shall  take  a  subordinate  place. 
This  is  the  fundamental  position  of  the 
present  lecture;  and  if  any  one  is  not  pre- 
pared to  accept  it  in  full,  then  I  cannot 
expect  to  convince  him  of  the  moral  sig- 
nificance of  the  subject  of  to-day  to  the 
present  course  of  lectures. 

The  preacher,  considered  as  an  artist,  is 
to  be  judged  by  his  use  of  method,  by  his 
sense  of  proportion,  by  his  style,  and  by  the 
tone  of  his  preaching. 

There  are  two,  and,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
but  two,  perfectly  natural  methods  of 
preaching.  One  where  the  sermon  is 
prepared  for  extempore  speech,  the  other 
where  the  sermon  is  written  to  be  read. 
Between  these  lie  two  other  methods  in 
common  use,  entirely  legitimate,  in  them- 
selves forcible,  and  probably  best  adapted 
to  the  average  preacher,  —  the  memoriter 
method,  and  that  of  the  sermon  written  to 
be  delivered.  I  will  give  a  brief  characteri- 
zation of  each  method  for  our  present  uses. 

The  characteristic  of  the  extempore 
method,  as  I  view  it,  is  that  the  mind  of 
the  preacher  remains  in  the  creative  mood 
throughout   the   delivery   of   the   sermon. 


94  THE   PREACHER 

The  ordinary  definitions  of  extempore 
speech  do  not  satisfy  this  conception,  as 
when  it  is  said  that  the  "  extempore 
speaker  knows  what  he  will  say,  he  does 
not  know  how  he  wall  say  it ;  "  or  that 
"  the  extempore  preacher  enters  the  pul- 
pit as  the  writer  takes  his  pen  to  write." 
These  definitions  ignore  the  idea  of  the 
creative  energy  as  still  active  under  the 
process  of  speaking.  The  true  conception 
of  extempore  preaching  is  that  the  preacher 
enters  the  pulpit  before  the  creative  fires, 
the  fires  which  kindle  thought,  have  been 
put  out.  The  preacher  is  still  in  heat  when 
he  enters  the  pulpit.  The  mind  is  in  its 
most  intense  activity,  and  therefore  clear- 
est and  most  discriminating  in  its  action. 
The  sermon  has  been  thoroughly  prepared, 
that  is,  thought  out,  otherwise  it  would  be 
an  example  of  mere  impromptu  preaching ; 
but  something  of  the  material  in  mind 
may  be  rejected,  and  other  material  may  be 
added.  The  genuine  extempore  preacher 
does  not  know  just  how  the  truth  will  pos- 
sess him  as  he  stands  before  men ;  he  does 
not  know  what  his  audience  will  have  to 
say  about  it.     It  is  this  unknown  element 


AND    HIS   ART  95 

which  enters  into  and  determines  the  best 
extempore  preaching.  The  best  extempore 
sermons,  I  do  not  say  the  average  of  them, 
but  the  best,  never  could  have  been  en- 
tirely prepared  in  the  study.  The  extem- 
pore preacher  who  is  such  by  clear  distinc- 
tion usually  thinks  his  best  thoughts  in 
the  presence  of  men.  Without  the  stimu- 
lus of  their  presence,  these  thoughts  would 
not  have  been  conceived.  They  are  born 
of  the  quick  contact  of  the  mind  of  the 
preacher  with  the  mind  of  the  audience. 
There  is  a  just  sense  in  which  they  belong 
to  the  audience  as  well  as  to  the  preacher. 
The  extempore  preacher  must  of  course  be 
prepared  to  preach  without  these  partially 
extraneous  aids  :  then  we  have  ordinary 
preaching.  He  must  be  prepared  to  wel- 
come and  utilize  them :  then  we  have  ex- 
traordinary extempore  preaching. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
this  distinction  separates  the  extempore 
preacher  entirely  from  the  merely  ready 
preacher  or  the  fluent  preacher  or,  accord- 
ing to  the  old  parlance^  the  unwearied 
preacher.  He  belongs  to  another  genus. 
Fluency  is  the  greatest  foe  to  true  extem- 


96  THE   PREACHER 

pore  preaching.  The  fluent,  easy,  self- 
satisfied  talker  has  none  of  the  stuff  in  him 
of  which  extempore  preachers  are  made. 

In  the  memoriter  method,  or  that  of  the 
sermon  written  to  be  delivered,  —  they  are 
alike  in  principle,  —  the  preacher  forecasts 
as  far  as  possible  the  situation ;  he  prepares 
his  sermon  with  his  audience  before  him  in 
imagination ;  he  thinks  how  he  will  utter 
the  given  truth  in  their  presence ;  and  hav- 
ing prepared  the  sermon  in  thought  and 
feeling  to  the  best  of  his  power,  he  com- 
mits it,  in  the  one  case  to  memory,  and  in 
the  other  case  to  manuscript.  The  memo- 
riter preacher  has  a  considerable  advantage 
in  ready  contact  with  his  audience,  in  the 
use  of  eye  and  gesture  ;  the  preacher  from 
manuscript  may  have  the  advantage  of 
using  his  manuscript  as  an  instrument,  an 
instrument  of  great  accuracy  and  preci- 
sion. A  preacher  from  manuscript  should 
never  be  ashamed  of  his  manuscript.  He 
should  make  his  audience  feel  that  it  is  a 
source  of  power,  that  it  is  an  effective  in- 
strument in  his  hands.  Preaching  from 
manuscript,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  is  in 
itself  an  art.     As  Dr.  WilUam  M.  Taylor 


AND   HIS   ART  97 

has  said,  in  speaking  of  the  change  in  his 
own  case  from  the  memoriter  method, 
"  One  must  educate  himself  to  the  free  and 
unfettered  use  of  the  full  manuscript." 
But  both  the  manuscript  sermon  and  the 
sermon  written  to  be  delivered  are  in  their 
intention  oratorical.  The  preacher  is  the 
orator,  so  far  as  he  may  be,  in  his  study ; 
he  tries  to  put  his  feeling  as  well  as  his 
thought  into  the  care  of  his  memory  or  of 
his  manuscript,  and  then  to  recover  them  in 
the  presence  of  his  audience,  a  fact  which 
explains  clearly  enough,  I  think,  what  I 
meant  when  I  said  that  either  method, 
though  extremely  forcible  in  itself,  is  by 
comparison  with  the  extempore  method 
unnatural.  The  aim  being  oratorical,  the 
method  is  not  so  true  to  the  aim. 

The  sermon  written  to  be  read  is  by  dis- 
tinction literary.  It  is  not  written  to  be 
delivered,  it  is  written  to  be  read.  The 
action  is  not  in  the  man  speaking  as  the 
orator,  the  action  is  in  the  style.  The 
style  is  terse,  vivid,  axiomatic,  picturesque, 
vital  in  word  as  well  as  in  thought,  and 
everywhere  pervaded  by  the  imagination. 
Mere  smoothness  of  diction  is  as  fatal  to 


98  THE   PREACHER 

this  method  as  is  fluency  to  the  extempore 
method.  Every  sentence  has  its  own  car- 
rying power.  Gesture  may  be  used,  but  it 
helps  very  little.  The  use  of  the  eye  is 
not  necessary.  I  heard  a  preacher  some 
twenty  years  ago,  a  young  man  then,  now 
unhappily  no  longer  in  the  pulpit,  read  a 
sermon  of  this  type  without  lifting  his  eyes 
from  the  manuscript,  but  I  doubt  if  any 
one  in  the  large  audience  took  his  eyes  off 
the  preacher.  This  method,  though  not 
absolutely  natural,  is  relatively  natural.  It 
is  true  to  its  aim.  Its  aim  is  the  best  ex- 
pression of  a  truth  through  the  most  effec- 
tive literary  qualities.  The  literary  aim 
allows  the  literary  method  of  presentation, 
that  is,  reading. 

Now  while  these  methods  differ,  as  I 
conceive,  at  the  points  I  have  named,  they 
all  have  the  great  and  essential  qualities  of 
the  sermon  in  common.  A  sermon  must 
be  a  sermon  in  any  and  all  conceivable  cir- 
cumstances, as  a  plea  must  be  a  plea,  or  an 
essay  an  essay,  or  a  poem  a  poem.  But  in 
the  choice  of  a  method,  and  in  the  adapta- 
tion of  it  to  his  own  powers,  the  preacher 
is  the  artist.    There  lies  a  considerable  part 


AND   HIS    ART  99 

of  the  responsibility  in  relation  to  any  art. 
And  the  choice  is  not  to  be  quickly  settled. 
For  this  reason  I  would  advise  the  method 
of  the  sermon  written  to  be  delivered  to 
begin  with,  as  the  one  which  secures  the 
best  immediate  results,  and  from  which  one 
can  pass  into  the  method  of  the  extempore 
or  written  sermon,  should  one  feel  that  he 
is  capable  of  making  the  change.  The 
memoriter  method,  if  one  has  a  reliable 
memory,  has  the  advantage  of  direct  ap- 
proach to  an  audience.  The  danger  of  the 
method  is  declamation,  than  which  nothing 
can  be  more  out  of  place  in  the  pulpit. 

But  if  one  is  to  become  the  extempore 
preacher,  or  the  preacher  of  the  sermon 
written  to  be  read,  he  must  enter  into  long 
and  resolute  training;  especially  in  case 
of  training  for  extempore  preaching,  he 
must  put  himself  under  inexorable  safe- 
guards against  uncertainty  in  thought,  un- 
evenness  in  temperament,  diff  useness  in  lan- 
guage, —  the  fluent  man,  I  repeat,  should 
never  become  the  extempore  preacher,  — 
against  repetition  and  monotony  in  the 
choice  of  subjects,  the  overworking  of 
words  and  phrases,  overstatement,  undue 


loo  THE   PREACHER 

familiarity  with  an  audience,  and  various 
other  dangers  of  Hke  nature  too  many  to 
be  enumerated.  He  must  subject  himself 
to  a  training  which  is  positive  and  continu- 
ous ;  and  when  he  has  his  method  well  in 
hand,  then  he  will  beware  most  lest  through 
overconfidence  he  lets  in  some  of  the  vices 
which  will  destroy  its  power.  But  the  end, 
as  indeed  the  end  to  be  reached  by  any 
method,  is  worthy  of  the  struggle.  Just  so 
far  as  conscience  goes  into  the  task,  just  so 
far  may  one  take  to  himself  the  joy  of  his 
conscience  in  the  result. 

Proportion  in  the  sermon  reveals  the  ar- 
tist in  the  preacher  more  even  than  his  use 
of  method.  A  sermon  proceeding  upon 
any  method  must  have  proportion.  It  is 
the  artistic  test.  I  once  heard  a  sermon 
from  a  very  able  man  on  the  hidings  of 
God's  power.  These  hidings,  the  preacher 
said,  were  to  be  found  in  history,  in  provi- 
dence, and  in  grace.  It  took  the  preacher 
thirty  minutes  to  find  them  in  history,  ten 
minutes  to  find  them  in  providence,  and 
three  minutes  to  find  them  in  grace.  The 
element  of  time,  considering  the  sermon  as 
a  whole,  enters  into  the  question  of  propor- 


AND    HIS   ART  loi 

tion.  A  preacher  must  determine  how  long 
a  given  truth,  under  his  presentation  of  it, 
can  hold  an  audience  for  the  best  impres- 
sion, not  how  long  an  audience  will  stay  and 
return  another  Sunday.  The  arrangement 
of  a  sermon  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with 
the  impression  of  time.  Some  preachers 
frighten  an  audience  at  the  outset  by  the 
way  in  which  they  lay  out  a  sermon,  even 
when  the  fear  is  not  justified  by  the  actual 
time  taken.  I  have  in  mind  a  preacher  who 
lays  out  his  sermon  for  an  hour,  but  he 
always  stops  inside  thirty  minutes.  I  sup- 
pose it  may  have  been  a  man  of  this  type 
who  raised  in  the  mind  of  Sydney  Smith 
the  horrible  suspicion,  which  he  communi- 
cated to  his  neighbor  in  the  pew  —  "  You 
don't  suppose,  do  you,  that  the  man  has 
forgotten  the  end  ?  " 

Proportion  demands  of  the  preacher  that 
he  shall  always  choose  a  manageable  sub- 
ject, and  this  means  sometimes  that  he 
shall  leave  a  subject  alone,  it  may  be  for 
years,  until  it  becomes  manageable.  A 
manageable  subject  is  one  which  can  be 
presented  in  its  wholeness.  Wholeness 
requires  unity,  but  it  is  more  than  unity. 


102  THE   PREACHER 

It  is  bringing  the  weight  of  the  subject  to 
bear,  not  in  fragments,  but  as  a  whole. 
Proportion  calls  for  emphasis  in  the  dis- 
tinction of  parts.  Equality  of  treatment 
measured  in  time  and  space  may  be  a  false 
equality.  One  part  may  be  made  emphatic 
by  the  simple  statement  of  it;  another  part 
requires  full  and  elaborate  treatment.  Pro- 
portion is  not  a  matter  of  outline.  It  is  a 
matter  of  impression.  When  a  thought  ^ 
has  done  its  work,  then  the  next.  Or  to 
change  from  the  figure  of  structure,  which 
always  restricts  the  thought  of  proportion, 
let  me  say  that  the  characteristic  of  a  ser- 
mon from  beginning  to  end  is  movement, 
progress.  You  can  test  the  sermon  at  any 
point  by  this  characteristic.  There  is  no 
such  thing,  for  example,  as  the  introduc- 
tion to  a  subject.  Introduction  is  a  part  of 
the  subject.  It  is  that  part  which  invites 
entrance.  Once  within,  the  mind  is  car- 
ried along  by  the  preacher,  now  by  argu- 
ment, now  by  illustration,  now  by  appeal, 
but  always  carried  along.  At  any  given 
moment  the  listener  is  not  where  he  was 
the  moment  before.  And  when  the  end 
comes,  one  knows  that  he  has  been  under 


AND  HIS   ART  103 

motion.  A  sermon  that  has  had  move- 
ment cannot  stop  without  creating  this 
feeling  in  an  audience,  even  if  it  has  not 
been  apparent  before.  The  stillness  which 
has  prevailed  gives  way  to  the  movement 
of  relief.     The  tension  is  broken. 

Under  whatever  figure  you  consider  the 
idea  of  proportion,  it  comes  to  the  same 
thing.  The  preacher  has  given  the  right 
amount  of  truth  for  the  end  sought,  he  has 
kept  its  unity,  he  has  left  it  with  an  impres- 
sion which  does  justice  to  the  truth  as  a 
whole.  And  meanwhile  the  appropriate 
effect  is  to  be  seen  in  the  audience.  The 
audience  is  brought  to  a  conclusion,  not  the 
sermon  simply,  or  the  truth.  "  Preaching," 
according  to  one  of  the  best  definitions  of 
it  of  which  I  have  knowledge,  "  is  making 
men  think,  and  feel  as  they  think,  and  act 
as  they  feel." 

The  pulpit,  as  much  as  any  agency  of 
public  speech,  places  insistence  upon  style. 
The  truth  in  itself,  however  true  it  may  be, 
will  not  insure  the  preacher  a  hearing.  It 
is  in  preaching  as  in  all  good  speech,  the 
truth,  plus  the  man,  plus  the  style.  The 
pulpit,  however,  insists  upon  no  particular 


104  THE   PREACHER 

style.  It  has  no  style  of  its  own.  The  at- 
tempt to  create  something  distinctive  and 
peculiar  in  this  regard  always  results  in 
unnaturalness,  the  worst  possible  vice  in 
preaching.  What  the  pulpit  demands,  and 
all  that  it  demands,  is  adherence  to  the 
fundamental  laws  of  effective  speech.  It 
continually  throws  the  emphasis  upon  the 
most  elementary  and  fundamental  qualities. 
There  must  be  vitality,  the  one  physical 
quality,  the  expression  of  which  may  vary 
from  the  restraint  of  the  deep,  almost  im- 
possible utterance  to  the  outburst  of  pas- 
sion, but  the  quality  must  be  in  evidence. 
The  preacher  must  be  alive,  the  sermon 
must  be  a  living  thing,  otherwise  the  infer- 
ence will  be  against  the  truth  as  well  as 
against  the  preacher.  And  there  must  be 
sincerity,  the  one  moral"  quality;  sincerity 
in  the  choice  of  a  subject  and  at  every  step 
in  its  presentation  ;  a  sincerity  so  absolute 
that  it  will  insure  the  denial  of  all  ambitious 
themes,  the  rejection  of  all  unproven  or  un- 
real statements,  the  contempt  of  all  feigned 
emotion ;  a  sincerity  also  which  will  show 
itself  in  the  quickening  of  the  whole  moral 
nature  and  in  its  ready  and  complete  re- 
sponse to  the  truth. 


AND   HIS   ART  105 

The  literary  qualities  of  the  sermon 
which  are  in  demand  are  equally  clear 
and  simple.  I  would  lay  the  stress  upon 
these  three,  —  plainness,  force,  and  beauty. 

What  is  necessary  to  insure  plainness  in 
the  sermon  ?  First,  that  the  thought  of  the 
sermon  be  prepared  for  others.  The  think- 
ing of  the  preacher  is  not  to  take  the  place 
of  the  thinking  of  the  audience,  but  it  is  to 
adapt  itself  to  their  thought  to  the  degree 
that  it  may  prove  a  stimulus.  There  must 
be  no  strangeness,  no  remoteness  in  the 
thought  of  the  pulpit.  It  must  not  be  alien 
to  the  current  life  of  men.  What  are 
called  "  living  subjects  "  are  not  necessa- 
rily subjects  of  the  hour,  but  subjects 
through  which  life  is  always  flowing  in 
steady  current.  The  preacher  must  learn 
to  think  toward  men,  not  away  from  them. 
Why  should  he  not  learn  to  think  in  their 
terms,  just  as  he  always  shares  the  com- 
mon feeling?  There  is  no  more  reason 
for  the  divorce  of  the  pulpit  from  the  in- 
tellectual life  of  the  people  than  there  is 
for  its  divorce  from  their  emotional  life. 
And  second,  that  the  sermon  have  order 
of    thought.      Order  is  the   chief   aid   to 


io6  THE   PREACHER 

understanding.  A  sermon  should  be  so 
arranged  or  developed  that  a  hearer  can 
never  lose  his  place  in  it.  The  preacher 
can  count  upon  a  good  deal  of  simple  logic 
in  the  common  mind.  There  may  not  be 
enough  to  expose  sophistry,  but  there  is 
always  enough  to  follow  clear  reasoning  on 
plain  matters.  And  third,  that  the  sermon 
have  simple  construction,  or  movement  in 
its  parts.  A  clear  thought  may  be  utterly 
lost  in  a  complicated  sentence.  An  in- 
volved period  may  cost  the  preacher  the 
attention  of  his  audience.  Conciseness 
may  sometimes  be  carried  to  the  point  of 
obscurity,  but  conciseness  never  leads  the 
mind  astray.  Conciseness  will  not  tolerate 
a  wandering  mind.  And  fourth,  that  the 
words  employed  in  the  sermon  be  the 
words  of  well  understood  and  accepted 
speech.  They  must  be  current  words. 
Some  preachers  need  to  take  their  ideas 
to  the  exchangers.  They  will  not  always 
receive  in  return  short,  homely  words.  A 
term  of  Latin  derivation  may  be  more 
common  than  its  corresponding  Saxon 
form.  Familiarity  is  the  chief  test.  Still, 
the  preference  goes  with  the  strong,  sin- 


AND   HIS   ART  107 

ewy,  terse  word  rather  than  with  the  more 
elegant  or  even  more  scrupulously  exact 
word.  I  commend  to  you  the  advice  which 
Charles  Kingsley  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
the  wife  of  the  country  esquire  of  Harthover 
House:  "  So  she  made  Sir  John  write  to 
the  'Times'  to  command  the  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  for  the  time  being  to  put 
a  tax  on  long  words :  a  light  tax  on  words 
of  over  three  syllables,  which  are  necessary 
evils,  like  rats,  but  which  like  them  must 
be  kept  down  judiciously;  a  heavy  tax  on 
words  of  over  four  syllables,  such  as  heter- 
odoxy, spontaneity,  spuriosity,  and  the  like; 
and  on  words  of  over  five  syllables  a  totally 
prohibitory  tax,  and  a  similar  prohibitory 
tax  on  words  derived  from  three  or  more 
languages  at  the  same  time."  Plainness 
depends  upon  such  simple  requisites  as 
these  which  I  have  named ;  but  it  rises  to 
finer  issues,  as  in  the  power  to  simplify, 
the  gift  of  the  great  teachers;  or  in  the 
power  to  make  vivid,  the  gift  of  those  who 
have  imagination  as  well  as  reason. 

The  quality  of  force  is  illustrated  by 
different  types  of  personality.  Its  expres- 
sion is  determined  largely  by  the  tempera- 


io8  THE   PREACHER 

ment  of  the  speaker.  There  are  two  dis- 
tinct classes  of  speakers  who  may  be 
rightly  termed  forcible.  In  the  one  class 
power  lies  in  repose,  in  the  other  it  is  in 
strong,  intense,  it  may  be,  vehement  action. 
The  one  class  holds  an  audience,  taking 
command  of  it  by  authority.  The  other 
class  projects  itself  upon  an  audience,  and 
arouses,  inspires,  or  inflames.  Not  many 
speakers  are  able  to  contradict  the  condi- 
tions of  persuasive  speech,  and  produce 
results  in  others  which  are  not  manifest  in 
themselves.  In  this  regard  Mr.  Phillips 
was  the  exceptional  orator  of  our  genera- 
tion, the  only  man  within  sound  of  his  own 
words  who  could  remain  cool  and  unim- 
passioned.  The  distinction  which  I  have 
drawn  between  force  in  comparative  repose 
and  force  in  personal  action  is  quickly  re- 
cognized in  the  distinction  between  Ed- 
wards and  Chalmers,  Webster  and  Choate, 
Finney  and  Moody,  Conkling  and  Blaine, 
Spurgeon  and  Brooks.  The  versatility  of 
Mr.  Beecher  enabled  him  to  cover  both 
types,  though  his  usual  type  was  that  of  the 
impassioned  speaker.  I  recall  with  great 
vividness  of   impression   one   example'  of 


AND    HIS   ART  109 

the  range  of  his  eloquence.  It  was  upon 
the  occasion  of  the  reception  of  EngHsh 
delegates  at  the  first  National  Congrega- 
tional Council,  held  in  Boston,  near  the 
close  of  the  civil  war.  The  state  of  feel- 
ing between  England  and  the  United 
States  was  then  very  different  from  that 
which  we  are  now  witnessing.  It  was  no 
easy  task  for  the  English  delegates  to  pre- 
sent the  greetings  of  the  English  churches. 
But  the  men  themselves  were  not  at  their 
best.  Their  words  were  not  well  chosen. 
The  audience  as  it  listened  grew  more  ex- 
cited and  aroused.  When  Mr.  Beecher, 
who  had  just  returned  from  his  triumphant 
tour  in  England,  rose  to  reply  —  it  was  a 
personal,  not  an  official  reply  —  he  faced  a 
vast  body  of  men  in  the  heat  of  smothered 
passion.  His  opening  words  met  the  mood 
of  the  audience.  "  When  I  landed  in  Eng- 
land and  first  met  the  people,"  he  said,  "  it 
seemed  to  me  that  God  had  sent  them  a 
strong  delusion,  that  they  should  believe 
a  lie,  that  they  all  might  be  damned." 
Then,  with  inimitable  humor  and  pathos, 
as  he  described  the  scenes  of  his  cam- 
paign, he  relieved  the  tension  and  unbur- 


no  THE   PREACHER 

dened  the  heart  of  his  hearers.  And  then 
having  made  his  audience  plastic  to  his 
touch,  he  began  to  mould  it  to  his  end. 
His  speech  broadened,  as  it  advanced,  to 
the  limits  of  Christian  charity,  and  rose  to 
the  height  of  moral  passion  befitting  the 
subject  and  the  occasion.  It  was  the 
speech  of  a  man  who  had  himself  in  per- 
fect command  as  well  as  his  argument, 
and  who  was  therefore  able  to  command 
his  audience.  He  found  his  audience  rest- 
less and  angered ;  he  left  it  calmed  and 
elevated,  at  peace  with  itself,  if  not  alto- 
gether at  peace  with  the  outer  world. 

If  one  may  attempt  to  describe  force  by 
its  qualities  rather  than  by  the  personal 
expression  of  it,  I  should  say  that  it  con- 
sisted in  such  qualities  as  these :  direct- 
ness, the  power  of  straightforward,  on- 
moving  speech,  speech  which  brooks  no 
interruption  but  which  moves  with  a  stead- 
fast determination  to  its  end,  not  the  mere 
advance  of  logic,  but  the  advance  of  the 
whole  man  ;  copiousness,  the  utterance  of 
the  full  man,  which  relieves  at  once  the 
fear  of  mental  exhaustion  and  gives  the 
assurance  of  power  in   reserve ;  nervous- 


AND    HIS    ART  iii 

ness  of  style,  the  characteristic  of  which  is 
that  every  thought  is  aUve,  that  every  word 
leaps  to  its  task;  and  massiveness,  the 
weight  of  well-organized  thought,  through 
which  the  speaker  is  able  to  make  the  whole 
of  his  thought  felt  through  every  part. 

I  do  not  dare  to  venture  upon  any  de- 
finition of  beauty,  in  its  application  to 
style,  within  the  limit  of  a  paragraph.  Cer- 
tainly beauty  does  not  consist  in  faultless- 
ness  nor  in  any  rhetorical  devices.  It  is 
chiefly  the  product  of  the  imagination,  the 
sane  imagination.  It  attends  greatness  of 
thought,  not  its  mere  refinements.  It  be- 
longs to  the  positive,  the  real,  the  spiritual. 
It  is  to  be  found  in  such  simplicity  of  con- 
ception as  marked  Mr.  Lincoln's  Gettys- 
burg Address,  in  Ruskin's  appreciation  of 
nature,  in  Shakespeare's  insight  and  per- 
fection of  form. 

These  are  the  qualities  of  style,  upon 
which  I  would  insist,  for  the  pulpit.  I  can- 
not conceive  of  a  good  sermon  which  does 
not  show  vitality  and  sincerity,  which  is  not 
plain  and  forceful,  and  in  which  the  trained 
mind  at  least  may  not  feel  at  some  point 
the  presence  of  beauty. 


112  THE   PREACHER 

To  speak  of  the  tone  of  the  sermon  as 
belonging  to  its  artistic  side  may  seem  to 
be  going  beyond  the  range  of  art,  but  I 
think  not.  Tone  is  personal,  it  belongs  to 
the  man,  but  it  belongs  to  the  preacher  as 
such  in  his  relation  to  given  conditions 
and  to  a  well-defined  occasion.  The  pul- 
pit tone  has  become  a  term  of  cant.  Let 
us  remember  that  the  counterfeit  assumes 
the  genuine,  the  caricature,  the  original. 
The  language  of  the  pulpit  must  be  the 
language  of  certainty;  that  gives  charac- 
ter to  its  speech.  It  must  be  the  language 
of  sympathy;  that  gives  character  to  its 
speech.  It  must  be  the  language  of  hope- 
fulness, the  hopefulness  of  the  gospel ;  that 
gives  character  to  its  speech.  Its  speech 
must  be  characterized  by  that  spiritual 
quality  which  is  no  more  satisfied  with 
mere  intellectualism  than  with  sensuous- 
ness.  The  sermon  is  the  utterance  of  a 
man  who  feels  in  all  his  nature  his  de- 
pendence upon  God,  who  stands  in  awe  of 
the  divine  working  in  and  through  him, 
but  who  rejoices  none  the  less  in  the  joy 
of  the  divine  fellowship.  Can  anything 
declare  in  a  more  perfect  simplicity  the 


AND   HIS   ART  113 

secret  of  the  inner  life  of  the  preacher 
than  the  opening  words  of  the  Apostle 
John  in  his  first  epistle  ?  "  That  which 
was  from  the  beginning,  that  which  we 
have  heard,  that  which  we  have  seen  with 
our  eyes,  that  which  we  beheld,  and  our 
hands  handled,  concerning  the  Word  of 
life  (for  the  life  was  manifested,  and  we 
have  seen,  and  bear  witness,  and  declare 
unto  you  the  life,  the  eternal  life,  which 
was  with  the  Father,  and  was  manifested 
unto  us) ;  that  which  we  have  seen  and 
heard  declare  we  unto  you  also,  that  ye 
also  may  have  fellowship  with  us :  yea, 
and  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and 
with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ:  and  these 
things  we  write,  that  our  joy  may  be  ful- 
filled." 

Yes,  the  sermon  ought  to  have  a  charac- 
ter which  befits  it.  That  gives  it  tone.  But 
character  in  speech  can  come  only  out  of 
the  life  of  the  speaker.  If  it  be  true  in  any 
sense  that  "  the  style  is  the  man,"  it  is  ten- 
fold more  true  that  the  tone  is  the  man. 
And  yet  I  am  well  aware  of  the  common 
fact  that  the  best  men  are  not  always  the 
best  preachers ;  nor  is  the  fact  to  be  over- 


114  THE   PREACHER 

looked,  that  the  best  preachers,  who  have 
the  fine  distinction  of  character  in  their 
speech,  often  preach  below  their  subject 
and  below  themselves.  I  will  not  attempt 
any  full  explanation  of  this  falling  short  of 
the  pulpit  in  its  best  estate.  I  will,  how- 
ever, suggest  one  reason  why,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  the  pulpit  in  any  given  case  may 
lack  the  right  tone.  The  lack  may  be 
due  to  a  certain  want  of  timeliness  in  the 
immediate  preparation  for  preaching.  The 
intellectual  and  the  emotional  have  not 
been  made  to  act  in  close  and  continuous 
companionship.  As  a  result,  when  the 
time  comes  to  preach,  the  intellectual  ele- 
ment is  found  to  be  immature,  or  the  emo- 
tional element  has  become  a  spent  force. 
To  be  able  to  utter  a  truth  in  heat,  and  yet 
when  it  has  taken  form  and  shape,  and 
reached  its  great  conclusion  —  that  is 
preaching.  But  what  preacher  has  not 
felt  the  fires  burning  low  or  dying  out 
under  the  process  of  elaboration?  The 
truth  wrought  out  at  last  is  not  the  truth 
which  first  laid  hold  upon  the  heart  and 
cried  out  for  utterance.  The  greater  ex- 
periences of  the  preacher  are  the  reverse 


AND   HIS   ART  115 

of  this,  when  the  truth  grows  warmer  as  it 
grows  clearer,  when  it  flames  as  it  expands, 
and  finally  comes  forth  not  only  radiant  in 
its  own  light,  but  touched  with  emotion. 
Touched  with  emotion,  this  is  often  the 
touch  which  makes  the  old  new  and  the 
common  fresh.  As  a  quaint  old  commen- 
tator said,  after  reading  Paul's  words  to  the 
Philippians,  —  "I  have  told  you  often,  and 
now  I  tell  you  weeping','  —  "  Ah,  Paul,  that 
makes  it  a  new  truth.  You  have  not  said 
just  that  before." 


WHAT  THE  PREACHER  OWES  TO  THE  TRUTH 

In  the  lectures  of  this  week  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  show  you  how  the  making  or 
unmaking  of  the  preacher  is  determined 
by  the  way  in  which  he  meets  two  of  his 
imperative  responsibilities,  his  responsibil- 
ity to  the  truth  and  his  responsibility  to 
men. 

The  nearest  obligation  of  the  preacher, 
an  obligation  of  the  nature  of  a  discipline 
or  of  a  task,  is  that  which  he  owes  to  his 
art.  Day  by  day,  in  season  and  out  of  sea- 
son, he  is  at  work  under  the  increasing 
force  of  the  homiletic  habit.  The  preacher, 
as  we  saw  at  the  last  lecture,  is  the  artist. 
He  must  have  therefore  the  conscience  of 
the  artist.  Let  not  a  preacher  imagine  for 
a  moment  that  he  can  satisfy  his  high  call- 
ing by  any  kind  of  general  or  specific  right- 
eousness, if  he  neglect  his  business,  his 
art.     If  God  has  called  him  to  preach,  He 


WHAT   PREACHER   OWES   TO   TRUTH    117 

has  called  him  to  be  a  preacher.  Preach- 
ing is  more  than  sermonizing,  more,  that 
is,  than  the  preparation,  or  the  writing,  or 
the  delivering  of  a  sermon.  It  involves  the 
constant  study  of  all  the  conditions  which 
make  the  sermon  effective.  If  a  sermon  is 
ineffective,  the  preacher  has  no  right  to  go 
on  making  sermons  just  like  it.  He  must 
stop  and  ask  why  it  is  ineffective,  and  not 
be  content  until  he  has  found  out  the  rea- 
son. That  is  the  way  in  which  any  other 
man  works,  who  has  put  himself  under 
moral  obligation  to  his  art. 

But  quite  beyond  any  obligation  of  this 
nature,  and  in  a  sense  quite  above  it,  are 
those  responsibilities  which  a  preacher  as- 
sumes toward  the  truth  and  toward  men. 
And  in  the  treatment  of  these  responsibili- 
ties we  may  find  the  clearest  evidence  of 
the  tendencies  which  are  at  work  for  the 
making  or  the  unmaking  of  the  individual 
preacher. 

The  subject  of  to-day  is  The  Responsi- 
bility of  the  Preacher  to  the  Truth,  with 
special  reference  to  present  conditions. 

The  preacher,  in  distinction  from  other 
men  who  are  concerned  with  the  truth,  has 


ii8      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

a  threefold  responsibility:  First,  that  the 
truth  shall  have  a  hearing.  Second,  that 
it  shall  be  rightly  interpreted  to  the  popu- 
lar mind.  Third,  that  it  shall  reach  men 
through  the  proper  and  sufficient  motive. 

The  first  responsibility  of  the  preacher 
is  to  gain  a  hearing  for  the  truth.  William 
Lloyd  Garrison  announced  his  personal 
platform  as  a  reformer  in  these  words  :  "  I 
will  not  equivocate,  I  will  not  compromise, 
I  will  not  retreat  a  single  inch,  and  I  will 
be  heard."  I  believe,  gentlemen,  that  the 
preacher  of  to-day  must  have  something  of 
the  personal  determination  of  the  reformer. 
The  outward  situation  is  not  one  of  hos- 
tility and  antagonism.  Apparently  the 
preacher  has  the  advantage  of  all  other 
men  in  the  setting  of  his  task.  Who  but 
he  has  one  day  in  seven  given  him  for  an 
opportunity  ?  Who  but  he  has  an  institu- 
tion widespread  and  universally  recognized 
standing  for  his  support }  Yet,  as  we  well 
know,  neither  Sunday  nor  the  church  can 
guarantee  the  preacher  a  hearing  for  the 
truth  at  all  commensurate  with  its  signifi- 
cance or  with  his  obligation  to  it. 

Dr.  Fisher  has  reminded  me  of  the  old- 


TO   THE  TRUTH  119 

time  custom  in  New  Haven  that  whenever 
a  preacher  of  repute  arrived  unexpectedly 
in  the  town  on  a  week  day,  the  church 
bell  was  rung  for  an  evening  service,  which 
was  sure  to  gather  up  the  greater  part  of 
the  community.  Religion  as  an  intellectual 
pursuit  was  the  prevailing  interest,  a  state 
of  affairs  which  no  longer  exists,  so  far  as 
we  know,  outside  the  parish  of  Drumtochty, 
or  possibly  the  neighboring  parish  of  Til- 
biedrum.  In  our  impatience,  we  may 
charge  the  difference  to  the  secularization 
of  the  age.  That  may  or  may  not  explain 
the  change.  Certainly  it  does  not  offer  the 
sufficient  excuse ;  for  we  are  bound  to  be- 
lieve that  religion  has  its  interests,  apart 
from  any  peculiar  type  of  intellectualism 
which  it  may  develop,  and  equal  to  the 
passing  concerns  of  an  age. 

In  an  after  -  dinner  speech.  Justice 
Holmes,  of  the  Massachusetts  Supreme 
Court,  quoted  the  remark  of  a  friend  to  the 
effect  that,  "  After  all,  the  only  interesting 
thing  is  religion ;  "  and  then  added  for  him- 
self, "  I  think  it  is  true,  if  you  take  the  word 
a  little  broadly,  and  include  under  it  the 
passionate  curiosity  as  well  as  the  passion- 


I20      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

ate  awe  which  we  feel  in  face  of  the  mystery 
of  the  universe.  This  curiosity  is  the  most 
human  appetite  in  man."  Now,  if  to  this 
most  human  appetite  we  have,  which  though 
latent  in  many  is  constant  in  all,  you  add  the 
incitement  of  great  disturbing  questions, 
questions  of  authority  and  destiny  and 
human  welfare:  if  you  stimulate  religion 
on  the  intellectual  side  by  critical  inquiry, 
and  on  the  sympathetic  side  by  contact 
with  misery ;  if  you  call  upon  Christianity 
as  an  historical  religion  to  verify  its  history, 
and  as  a  religion  of  humanity  to  humanize 
the  forces  which  control  life ;  if,  I  say,  you 
increase  and  stimulate  the  common  reli- 
gious instinct  or  appetite  by  these  extraor- 
dinary incitements  and  demands,  you  have 
brought  about  in  general  the  exact  state 
of  religious  thought  and  life  which  now 
exists.  Without  a  doubt  religion  is  to-day, 
not  only  by  its  own  personal  rights,  but  in 
its  relation  to  the  age,  a  "most  interesting 
thing." 

This,  of  course,  is  a  generalization  in  re- 
gard to  the  personal  appeal  of  truth.  When 
you  break  up  the  generalization,  and  reduce 
the  subject  to  its  commonplace  conditions. 


TO   THE  TRUTH  121 

when  you  ask  how  men  feel  about  religious 
truth  in  a  given  locality,  you  are  met,  I 
grant,  by  comparative  indifference  where 
you  might  have  expected  interest.  Church 
going  is  conceded  to  be  less  the  custom 
than  it  was  several  generations  ago ;  though 
this  fact  is  not  to  be  stated  alone.  It  is 
also  true  that  the  proportion  of  church 
members  to  the  whole  population  has  in- 
creased, and  that  the  worth  of  the  church 
to  the  community,  when  measured  by  its 
benevolences  and  general  activities,  has 
also  increased.  Church  going,  too,  is  some- 
thing which  cannot  be  determined  by  the 
presence  or  absence  of  distracting  influ- 
ences. The  church  of  the  city  is  on  the 
whole  better  attended  than  the  church  of 
the  remote  country;  which  shows  that  re- 
ligion can  contend  better  against  strong 
competitions  than  against  stagnation  or 
lethargy.  The  traditions  of  a  locality  or 
of  a  sect  have  much  to  do  with  church 
going.  A  community  is  usually  in  whole 
or  in  part  set  toward  the  church  or  away 
from  it.  A  preacher  finds,  wherever  he 
goes,  that  he  has  an  inheritance  of  in- 
terest or  of  indifference.     But  when   the 


122       WHAT  THE   PREACHER  OWES 

proper  allowance  has  been  made  for  the  in- 
fluences which  can  be  counted  upon  to 
gain  the  truth  a  hearing,  it  still  remains 
that  a  large  added  obligation  rests  upon 
the  preacher.  To  satisfy  this  obligation  he 
must  make  all  legitimate  use  of  his  person- 
ality, both  within  and  without  the  pulpit. 
There  are  very  few  uses  of  one's  personal- 
ity, which  are  genuine  and  natural,  which 
are  not  legitimate.  All  affectation  and  ar- 
tificiality are  ruled  out,  all  tricks  and  man- 
nerisms, all  imitations  of  other  preachers,  all 
perversion  of  one's  own  powers.  But  every 
really  natural  gift  has  a  place  in  the  pulpit. 
It  is  impossible  to  discuss  the  question 
of  the  introduction  of  humor  into  the  pul- 
pit, apart  from  the  knowledge  of  the  man. 
The  humor  of  one  preacher  may  be  as  re- 
verent as  the  solemnity  of  another.  That 
charming  quality  of  quaintness,  which  gives 
the  truth  the  constant  advantage  of  fresh- 
ness and  delicate  surprise  and  unsuspected 
meaning,  how  much  more  effective  it  is 
than  any  rhetorical  elaboration  or  any 
straining  after  originality.  And  the  use 
of  dramatic  power,  if  the  power  is  abso- 
lutely genuine  and  irresistible,  how  surely 


TO   THE   TRUTH  123 

it  lays  hold  upon  us  all  without  respect  to 
persons.  When  Father  Taylor  drew  to  his 
sailor  chapel,  where  he  kept  the  body  of 
the  house  reserved  for  his  sailors,  Dr. 
Channing  and  Daniel  Webster,  and  later 
John  A.  Andrew  and  his  friends,  it  was 
"  the  touch  of  nature  which  makes  the 
whole  world  kin." 

I  know  of  no  limit  which  we  can  put 
upon  the  freedom  of  a  greatly  gifted  man, 
whom  God  has  set  in  the  pulpit.  Great 
gifts,  however,  have  a  various  result.  They 
may  repel  as  well  as  invite.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  the  most  popular  preachers 
are  seldom  universally  popular.  They  all 
have  their  limitations.  Test  the  fact  by 
the  attempt  to  exchange  the  audiences 
which  different  men  may  have  gathered, 
and  I  think  that  you  would  be  surprised 
at  the  result.  Who  supposes  that  Canon 
Liddon  could  have  retained  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's  audience  had  it  been  transferred  to 
St.  Paul's,  or  that  Mr.  Spurgeon  could 
have  retained  Canon  Liddon's  audience 
had  it  been  transferred  to  the  Tabernacle  ? 
Or  apply  the  same  test  to  men  of  such 
wide    humanity   in    common    as    Phillips 


124      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

Brooks  and  Dwight  Moody.  When  Mr. 
Moody  was  in  Boston  some  years  ago,  Mr. 
Brooks  took  his  service  at  one  session. 
After  reading  his  sermon,  which  was  re- 
ported in  the  papers,  I  wondered  how  long 
the  same  audience  would  have  been  held 
under  that  type  of  preaching.  An  audi- 
ence there  would  have  been,  but  not,  I  be- 
lieve, for  any  long  time  the  same. 

As  the  element  of  genuine  personality 
in  the  pulpit  is  increased  it  will  insure  an 
enlarged  hearing  for  the  truth,  but  how  it 
will  act  in  a  given  case  cannot  be  predi- 
cated in  advance.  We  must  deal  in  total 
results.  The  law  is,  the  greater  the  per- 
sonality of  the  preacher,  the  larger  the  use 
of  his  personality,  the  wider  and  deeper 
the  response  of  men  to  the  truth.  And  the 
same  law  applies,  though  in  less  degree,  to 
the  use  of  personality  outside  the  pulpit. 
The  pastoral  gift  serves  the  truth.  The 
preacher  who  can  establish  right  relations 
with  men  at  large  in  any  community,  im- 
pressing them  with  his  genuineness,  ear- 
nestness, and  disinterested  zeal  in  their  be- 
half, has  won  a  clientage  for  the  truth 
which  he  holds.      I  will  not  touch  upon 


TO  THE  TRUTH  125 

what  I  may  wish  to  say  later  about  the 
knowledge  of  human  nature  in  the  con- 
crete as  the  pastorate  opens  it  to  the 
preacher,  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying 
at  this  point  that  pastoral  service  is  the 
proper  apprenticeship  to  the  pulpit.  At 
some  time  the  preacher  ought  to  know 
human  life  in  its  details. 

The  preacher  is  not  limited  in  the  use 
of  his  personality  in  gaining  a  hearing  for 
the  truth ;  he  has  the  liberty  of  wise  in- 
vention. There  is  an  old  term,  now  out 
of  use  but  very  significant,  the  means  of 
grace ;  means  of  grace  are  usually  means 
of  spiritual  impression.  It  is  to  be  re- 
membered that  the  various  denomina- 
tions are  founded  upon  the  use  of  means. 
The  Christian  communions  are  not  so 
clearly  or  widely  separated  from  one  an- 
other by  doctrine  or  by  polity  as  by  method. 
As  the  emphasis  is  laid  upon  authority,  as 
with  the  Romanist,  or  upon  creed,  as  with 
the  Presbyterian,  or  upon  worship,  as  with 
the  Episcopalian,  or  upon  experience,  as 
with  the  Methodist,  you  have  in  the  main 
the  distinguishing  characteristic.  Any- 
thing which  is  so  fundamental  as  method 


126      WHAT  THE   PREACHER  OWES 

must  be  capable  of  very  great  and  ex- 
tended use.  Why  should  not  the  preacher 
use  it  according  to  his  ability  and  accord- 
ing to  his  sense  of  the  fitness  of  things? 
A  great  deal  is  sometimes  gained  by  the 
appeal  to  the  unused  side  of  the  spiritual 
nature.  I  noticed  some  years  ago  in  a 
series  of  meetings  held  by  Mr.  Moody,  in 
New  York,  that  many  of  the  most  earnest 
attendants  and  supporters  were  Episcopa- 
lians and  Quakers.  The  Puritan  churches 
have  made  their  uninterrupted  appeal  for 
many  generations  to  the  reason  and  con- 
science. Why  should  they  not  also  make 
the  appeal  more  distinctly  and  impressively 
to  the  instinct  of  reverence  and  to  the 
craving  for  worship  ?  Why  should  they 
not  also  carry  the  appeal  straight  to  the 
heart  ?  And  if  there  be  other  methods 
which  recognize  and  utilize  any  of  the 
primary  instincts  of  human  nature,  let 
them  be  brought  into  service.  One  such 
is  the  instinct  for  association,  which  under- 
lies the  various  organizations,  societies, 
and  clubs,  which  make  an  opportunity  for 
the  truth.  If  men  who  would  not  other- 
wise support  or  even  attend  a  service  of 


TO   THE   TRUTH  127 

the  church  will  become  actively  interested 
in  the  church  by  forming  a  club  for  the 
maintenance  of  a  special  service,  why 
should  not  the  principle  be  recognized  and 
the  aid  accepted  ? 

I  will  go  a  step  further  and  plead  for 
the  recognition  of  peculiar  means,  which 
must  be  limited  in  their  use  to  those  whose 
chief  reliance  is  upon  the  employment  of 
them.  My  illustration  shall  be  the  use  of 
authority  as  exemplified  by  the  methods 
of  the  Salvation  Army.  The  outfit  of  uni- 
form, drums,  and  the  like  is  simply  an  out- 
fit. The  underlying  principle  is  authority. 
The  man  who  is  reached  by  the  army  is 
asked  to  surrender  himself  absolutely  to 
its  discipline.  It  is  assumed,  in  the  ma- 
jority of  cases,  that  his  will  has  been 
weakened.  The  army  offers  him  its  will, 
organized  and  disciplined,  as  a  substitute 
for  his  own,  till  he  is  strong  enough  to  act 
for  himself,  and  in  turn  to  contribute  to 
the  common  stock.  His  first  and  constant 
act  is  obedience.  He  is  put  under  orders, 
tasks  are  assigned  to  him,  days  of  special 
denial  are  appointed;  he  is  made  to  live 
under  the  common  eye;  the  surrender  is  in 


128      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

every  way  complete,  till  he  is  transformed 
from  a  mere  dependent  upon  others  to  a 
helper  and  strengthener  of  others.  This 
is  the  philosophy  of  the  means  of  grace 
employed  by  the  Salvation  Army,  an  ex- 
ample of  the  use  of  authority  unequaled 
outside  the  Romish  Church. 

Certainly  the  question  will  arise  how  far 
the  incidents  attending  the  use  of  any 
great  principle  are  to  be  approved  or  al- 
lowed. Religion  can  bear  a  good  deal,  but 
it  stops  short  of  the  grotesque.  As  Dr. 
Howard  Crosby  once  said,  "  If  the  gospel 
were  preached  by  an  orang-outang,  it 
would  not  be  the  gospel."  There  must 
be  some  fitness  between  means  and  end. 
But  I  think  that  we  have  less  to  fear  from 
unfit  methods  than  from  the  lack  of  an 
aggressive  invention.  I  believe  that  the 
church  suffers  more  from  the  under-use 
than  from  the  over-use  of  means. 

I  can  refer  only  to  the  use  by  the 
preacher  of  special  and  applied  truths  to 
get  a  hearing  for  the  essential  truth.  Let 
me  say  that  I  believe  so  fully  in  the  unity 
of  truth  that  I  think  we  can  afford  to 
meet  men  at  all  points  of  their  personal 


TO   THE   TRUTH  129 

interest,  provided  their  interests  are  not 
hobbies.  Concerning  the  man  with  a 
hobby  nothing  is  to  be  said  but  "  to  avoid 
him,  pass  not  by  him,  turn  from  him  and 
flee  away."  But  there  are  outlying  ques- 
tions which  are  fairly  upon  the  territory 
held  by  the  gospel.  The  concerns  of 
Christianity  are  wide  and  sensitive,  and 
of  an  infinite  variety.  The  preacher,  if 
he  has  the  spiritual  ability,  can  fitly  go 
out  to  men  who  are  living  in  the  remote 
regions  of  the  Christian  faith  or  the  Chris- 
tian interest,  and  try  to  bring  them  back 
with  him  to  the  heart  of  Christ.  I  am 
aware  of  the  dangers  of  this  method.  The 
untrained  preacher  will  fail  utterly  as  a 
specialist.  And  the  trained  preacher 
may  go  too  far  afield  in  the  search  after 
the  exceptional  man.  Still,  there  is  an 
opportunity  within  the  range  of  so-called 
special  questions  for  introducing  men's 
thoughts  to  the  more  personal  claims  of 
Christianity. 

The  second  responsibility  of  the 
preacher  to  the  truth  is  that  of  rightly  in- 
terpreting it  to  the  popular  mind.  The 
interpretation  of   religious  truth  involves 


I30      WHAT   THE   PREACHER  OWES 

the  understanding  of  the  mind  to  be 
reached  as  well  as  of  the  truth  to  be  de- 
clared. A  preacher  may  have  a  clear  and 
right  understanding  of  religious  truth,  but 
he  will  still  fail  in  the  interpretation  of  it 
if  he  does  not  know  and  estimate  the  state 
of  mind  before  him.  We  can  see  that  no 
amount  of  biblical  or  theological  or  homi- 
letic  training  could  enable  one  to  interpret 
Christianity  to  the  Oriental  thought.  The 
missionary  must  not  only  learn  the  lan- 
guage of  an  Oriental  people,  he  must  learn 
the  thought  of  the  people,  before  he  can 
reach  them  to  any  extent.  This  is  an  ex- 
treme illustration.  But  we  are  apt,  I  think, 
to  overestimate  the  accessibility  of  reli- 
gious truth  to  the  average  mind  of  Chris- 
tendom.    Let  us  analyze  the  situation. 

A  great  many  people  are  still  alien  to 
Christian  thinking  who  are  not  alien  to  the 
Christian  spirit.  Interpretation  means  in 
such  cases  the  introduction  of  the  terms 
of  Christianity.  Ask  the  average  young 
person  who  is  about  to  join  the  church, 
"  What  do  you  think  it  is  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian ?  "  or  "  What  does  it  mean  to  you  to 
be  a  Christian  ?  "  and  the  chances  are  that 


TO   THE   TRUTH  131 

you  will  receive  from  one  out  of  five  an 
answer  in  general  moral  or  religious  terms. 
To  be  a  Christian  means  to  try  to  do  right, 
or  to  attend  church,  or  to  be  kind  and 
helpful,  —  very  good  answers,  but  not  an- 
swers lying  at  the  heart  of  Christianity. 
Personal  Christianity  remains  to  be  inter- 
preted to  such  an  one.  The  relation  of 
the  soul  to  Christ  is  to  be  brought  out 
with  a  simplicity  corresponding  to  the 
outward  duty  which  may  already  exist. 
A  great  deal  of  the  work  of  the  pulpit, 
in  every  community,  consists  in  making 
connection  between  Christianity  and  the 
general  moral  sense  of  people,  vitalizing 
their  existing  life,  purifying  it,  opening  it 
out  into  the  Christian  opportunity,  and 
giving  it  the  motive  and  power  which 
come  only  from  the  indwelling  Christ. 

And  then  there  is  the  relation  of  the 
pulpit  to  a  considerable  amount  of  preju- 
diced mind,  in  the  church  and  out  of  it.  I 
suppose  that  there  is  no  type  of  mind  so 
unmanageable,  so  impervious  to  the  ad- 
vance of  religious  truth,  as  the  traditional- 
ized  mindu  Sometimes  it  finds  its  way  into 
the  pulpit.    I  once  heard  a  minister  say  at 


132       WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

his  examination,  as  his  final  answer  to  all 
questions  bearing  upon  modern  inquiry, 
"  My  mother's  theology  is  good  enough  for 
me."  Doubtless  his  mother's  religion  was 
good  enough  for  him  or  for  anybody  else ; 
but  when  one  plants  himself  upon  his  mo- 
ther's theological  standing,  he  announces 
that  he  has  no  use  for  further  theological 
inquiry. 

There  is  no  little  amount  of  mind  of 
this  character  in  and  out  of  the  church, 
—  quite  as  much  without  as  within,  and, 
if  anything,  more  difficult  to  reach.  What 
can  the  preacher  do  with  it?  It  is  of  no 
use  to  attack  a  prejudiced  mind.  You  can- 
not always  tell  a  man  what  you  think  of 
his  opinions  if  you  want  to  reach  the  man. 
Suppose  one  tells  you  that  he  believes  in 
the  inerrancy  of  Scripture  as  based  on  the 
correctness  of  the  original  autographs.  I 
do  not  know  of  anything  to  do  except  to 
change  the  subject.  You  can  hardly  ex- 
press yourself  about  that  opinion  and  have 
a  chance  for  further  effort  after  the  man. 
I  do  not  know  of  the  way  of  arguing  with 
a  literalist  of  any  sort,  with  a  view  of  con- 
vincement.     The  only  approach  to  such  a 


TO   THE  TRUTH  133 

mind  is  through  interpretation.  You  have 
the  opportunity,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  of 
so  opening  the  Scriptures  in  their  spirit 
that  the  final  result  may  be  a  deliverance 
from  the  bondage  of  the  letter.  Certainly 
argument  is  useless  and  controversy  is 
wicked ;  there  is  no  power  outside  the 
right  use  of  interpretation.  The  spiritual 
must  always  have  time  in  which  to  do  its 
work.  Familiarity  with  the  broader  truth 
will  in  time  displace  the  narrower  view. 

And  then  there  is  the  over-familiarized 
mind,  both  in  the  church  and  without,  the 
mind  which  knows  it  all,  which  is  impa- 
tient of  instruction  and  resentful  of  any 
intimation  of  the  need  of  further  know- 
ledge. This  is  on  the  whole  the  most 
common  type  and  the  most  difficult  to 
reach.  It  is  mind  which  all  unconsciously 
to  itself  has  fallen  into  the  commonplace. 
And  yet  you  cannot  say  just  that,  you 
cannot  accuse  it  of  ignorance  and  dullness. 
Nothing  again  remains  but  the  art  of  in- 
terpretation. That  is  enough.  There  lies 
the  power  to  stimulate,  to  quicken,  to 
awaken.  Sometimes  the  confession  will 
follow  preaching  of  this  order,  the  "  whereas 


134      WHAT  THE   PREACHER   OWES 

I  was  blind,  now  I  see ; "  but  more  fre- 
quently the  preacher  must  be  content  with 
the  gradual  opening  of  the  mental  vision, 
and  the  gradual  awakening  of  the  spiritual 
nature. 

These  all  represent  types  or  states  of 
mind  to  be  changed,  —  the  mind  alien  to 
Christian  thought,  the  prejudiced  mind, 
and  the  mind  which  has  been  over-familiar- 
ized with  religious  truth. 

But  the  great  body  of  mind  which  is 
before  the  preacher  does  not  need  to  be 
changed.  It  is  serious,  intelligent,  well- 
disposed,  and  open.  What  are  the  preach- 
er's obligations  to  this  prevailing  class  of 
mind  ?  One  obligation  is  of  the  time,  one 
is  permanent.  The  immediate  obligation 
is  to  present  all  necessary  changes  in  reli- 
gious thought  without  prejudice  to  the 
religious  Hfe.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
we  all  love  to  believe  in  the  unchange- 
ableness  of  religion.  So  much  is  un- 
changeable in  principle  that  we  like  to 
carry  over  this  quality  into  things  which 
are  incidental.  The  traditionalist,  the  lit- 
eralist,  the  ecclesiastic,  have  the  advantage 
in  being  able  to  relate  everything,  which 


TO  THE  TRUTH  135 

they  believe  to  be  or  wish  to  make  per- 
manent, to  something  which  is  permanent. 
But  when,  as  in  our  time,  it  seems  neces- 
sary, to  all  who  believe  in  progress,  to 
effect  changes  in  the  outward  and  inci- 
dental to  save  the  really  permanent,  the 
problem  is,  how  to  bring  about  these 
changes  with  the  least  disturbance  to  the 
life  and  work  of  the  church.  The  most 
difficult  manoeuvre  in  war  is  change  of 
front  in  battle.  The  manoeuvre  may  be 
well  executed;  but  if  the  battle  be  lost, 
the  greater  has  failed  before  the  less. 
Whatever  theological  changes  are  yet  to 
be  made  in  our  time  ought  to  be  made 
without  loss  to  the  fight.  This  particular 
obligation  rests  almost  entirely  with  the 
pulpit.  The  preacher  is  in  command 
where  truth  is  in  conflict  with  all  error 
which  is  of  the  nature  of  unrighteous- 
ness. He  cannot  forget  that  the  main 
object  is  the  victory.  Neither  can  he 
overlook  his  obligation  to  the  truth,  as 
it  becomes  to  his  mind  more  clearly  the 
truth.  He  will  not  be  disloyal  to  his 
knowledge  any  more  than  to  his  convic- 
tions, but  he  will  so  interpret  the  truth  as 


136      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

he  sees  it  that  the  change  will  be  construc- 
tive and  not  destructive.  He  will  wait  till 
he  gets  possession  of  the  new  truth  posi- 
tively. He  will  wait  till  he  knows  where 
to  place  the  emphasis.  He  will  wait  till 
he  knows  how  to  make  the  right  adjust- 
ment. In  a  word,  he  will  interpret  the 
truth  so  that  it  will  fit  the  new  duties 
which  have  really  been  in  waiting  for  it. 
For  you  may  be  assured,  gentlemen,  that 
if  God  has  brought  any  new  truth  to  this 
age,  it  is  to  accomplish  new  tasks.  Reve- 
lation and  Providence  are  always  so  timed 
that  truth  never  stands  idle  in  the  market- 
place. 

But  the  personal  obligation  of  the 
preacher  is  always  that  of  the  larger  and 
nobler  interpretation  of  the  truth.  I  know 
of  no  greater  joy  to  the  preacher  than  to 
stand  with  his  truth,  the  truth  with  which 
he  is  aglow,  before  the  hospitable  mind. 
And,  as  compared  with  all  other  types  and 
conditions,  this  is  by  far  the  largest.  A 
preacher  has  nothing  to  fear,  but  every- 
thing to  expect,  who  enters  his  pulpit  with 
the  deeper  and  fuller  interpretation  of 
familiar  truth.     The  opening  of  Scripture 


TO   THE  TRUTH  137 

as  the  result  of  study  and  insight,  and  I 
may  add  of  personal  experience,  is  grateful 
to  an  audience.  The  reward  to  the  preacher 
is  the  growth  of  his  people  in  and  through 
the  truth.  He  leaves  them  larger  than 
when  he  found  them.  The  congregation 
will  probably  have  increased  in  numbers ; 
it  will  certainly  be  larger  by  every  other 
measurement.  It  will  have  the  great  di- 
mensions, length,  breadth,  height,  and 
depth. 

I  think  that  I  have  reserved  enough 
time  in  this  lecture  to  say  what  is  really 
the  essential  thing,  though  being  the  essen- 
tial thing  it  may  take  the  less  time  to  say 
it.  The  third  and  most  serious  obligation 
of  the  preacher  to  the  truth  is,  to  see  that 
it  reaches  men  at  his  hands  through  the 
sufficient  and  proper  motive.  Motive,  in 
that  lies  the  power  of  religious  truth.  In- 
directly, incidentally,  all  truth  may  have 
motive.  But  in  religious  truth  the  motive 
gives  it  reality.  You  could  not  take  the 
motive  out  of  the  atonement  and  leave  it 
a  religious  truth.  I  count  by  far  the  most 
serious  and  difficult  task  of  the  preacher 
to  give  the  sufficient  motive  to  the  truth 


138      WHAT  THE   PREACHER  OWES 

he  utters.  Indeed,  if  he  can  really  do  that, 
he  has  gained  a  hearing  for  it,  and  given  it 
its  highest  interpretation. 

I  sometimes  question  whether  we  have 
the  right  to  preach  until  we  have  become 
so  imbued  with  the  motive  of  Scripture 
that  we  have  the  mind  of  the  prophet 
under  the  utterance  of  his  message  from 
God.  It  was  not  so  much  the  message 
which  possessed  him  as  it  was  the  concep- 
tion of  the  heart  of  God  which  the  message 
disclosed :  "  Who  is  a  God  like  unto  thee, 
that  pardoneth  iniquity,  and  passeth  by  the 
transgression  of  the  remnant  of  his  herit- 
age ?  He  retaineth  not  his  anger  forever, 
for  that  he  delighteth  in  mercy.  He  will 
turn  again,  he  will  have  compassion  on  us ; 
he  will  subdue  our  iniquities :  and  thou  wilt 
cast  all  their  sins  into  the  depth  of  the 
sea."  We  preach  God  in  his  own  blessed 
person,  not  his  attributes,  or  his  words,  or 
his  doings,  chiefly.  Our  supreme  message 
is  God  himself.  As  Paul  says,  over  and 
over  again,  "  We  preach  Christ."  I  think 
that  it  was  Paul's  apprehension  of  Christ 
which  has  given  him  such  a  place  of  influ- 
ence in  Christianity.     More  of  the  motive 


TO   THE   TRUTH  139 

of  Christianity  is  in  his  writings  than  we 
can  find  elsewhere.  He  never  gets  away, 
not  in  the  furthest  reaches  of  his  logic, 
from  the  love  of  Christ.  In  this  Paul  is 
true  to  his  date  in  the  divine  revelation. 
He  comes  into  the  divine  thought  as  it 
becomes  more  urgent  in  the  endeavor  to 
save.  We  mistake  if  we  think  that  the 
Bible  advances  from  the  sacrificial  to  the 
ethical.  The  advance,  if  the  comparison 
is  to  be  made  at  all  under  the  idea  of 
progress,  is  from  the  ethical  to  the  sacri- 
ficial. That  is,  the  motive  of  God  comes 
out  with  a  deeper  promise  and  with  a 
more  irresistible  power  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment than  in  the  Old.  God  comes  near 
to  man,  surrenders  more,  not  of  righteous- 
ness, but  of  himself,  to  reach  man,  suffers 
more  for  man.  The  sermon  on  the  mount 
holds  all  the  ethics  of  the  commandments  ; 
but  from  the  sermon  on  the  mount  to  the 
passion  and  death  of  Jesus,  what  an  ad- 
vance there  is  in  the  motive  power  of  the 
gospel !  Allow  me  to  quote  from  what  I 
have  elsewhere  written  on  this  point :  — 

"  The  method  of  Jesus  was  sacrificial,  — 
ethical  certainly,  but  not  to  the  exclusion 


I40      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

or  subordination  of  the  sacrificial.  And  the 
proof  of  this  lies  in  his  treatment  of  the 
principle  and  idea  of  sacrifice.  When  we 
begin  to  study  the  method  of  Jesus  we  are 
startled  to  find  that  he  reversed  the  whole 
course  and  current  of  sacrifice.  The  great 
volume  of  sacrifice  had  been  pouring 
through  innumerable  channels  from  the 
heart  of  man  into  the  heart  of  God. 
Christ  met  and  overwhelmed  the  sacrifice 
of  man  with  the  sacrifice  of  God.  It  was 
the  inflowing  tide  of  the  ocean  staying  and 
returning  the  waters  from  river  and  creek 
which  were  seeking  its  bosom.  The  act  of 
Jesus  was  an  act  of  sublime  daring.  We 
instinctively  ask,  Who  is  it  who  dares  to 
make  this  reversal  ?  Who  is  it  that  bids 
men  cease  their  propitiatory  rites  ?  Who 
is  it  that  puts  out  the  fires  on  sacrificial 
altars  and  stanches  the  blood  of  sacrificial 
victims  ?  It  is  He  who  carries  out  the 
change  in  his  own  person  and  offers  him- 
self the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away 
the  sin  of  the  world." 

The  failure  of  merely  ethical  religions  is 
that  they  lack  motive.  We  can  see  that 
fact  when  it  is  set  forth  on  a  large  scale. 


TO   THE   TRUTH  141 

It  is  equally  a  fact  when  the  ethical  is  the 
sole  power  in  a  man's  preaching.  He  has 
not  come  into  the  permanent  power  of  the 
Bible.  He  has  not  caught  the  secret  of 
Christianity.  He  is  not  giving  the  truth 
its  full  chance  with  men  through  the  proper 
and  sufficient  use  of  motive. 

I  must  not  fail  to  remind  you,  or  to  in- 
sist upon  the  fact,  that  there  is  need  of 
a  constant  education  on  the  part  of  both 
preacher  and  people  in  the  use  of  motive. 
A  motive  may  meet  a  man  where  it  finds 
him,  and  be  sufficient  to  work  a  great 
change  in  his  life.  It  does  not  follow  that 
it  is  the  sufficient  motive  for  his  after 
years.  It  is  difficult  to  arrange  motives 
in  order.  We  should  place  fear  below 
love;  but  the  soul  which  has  been  won  by 
love  may  advance  into  the  fear  of  sin,  and 
in  a  very  true  sense  into  the  fear  of  God. 
It  is,  however,  certain  that  a  change  of  life, 
which  takes  place  through  a  fear  of  conse- 
quences, has  not  arrived  at  the  dignity  or 
honor  or  security  which  ought  to  come  in 
through  the  advance  in  motive.  The  dis- 
tinctively Christian  motive  is  gratitude. 
"  The  life  which  I  now  live  I  live  by  faith 


142       WHAT   THE   PREACHER  OWES 

of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and 
gave  himself  up  for  me."  Gratitude  is 
altogether  unselfish,  and  it  knows  no  limits 
in  the  measure  of  its  obligations.  There 
is  nothing  which  a  profoundly  grateful 
Christian  will  not  do.  His  gratitude 
carries  with  it  the  whole  argument  for 
consistency.  What  should  not  one  be 
ready  to  give  up,  or  to  seek  to  accom- 
plish, who  has  been  reclaimed  by  Christ, 
and  is  thoroughly  conscious  of  the  fact  ? 

Prudential  motives  are  not  excluded  from 
the  gospel.  A  man  has  the  same  right  to 
escape  from  sin,  and  for  the  same  reason, 
that  he  would  escape  from  any  evil  or  in- 
jury. Motives  of  self-respect  are  not  ex- 
cluded from  the  gospel.  The  gospel  makes 
its  appeal  to  men  on  the  ground  that  they 
are  worth  too  much  to  themselves,  and  to 
other  men,  and  to  God,  to  waste  themselves 
in  sinning.  Neither  are  motives  which 
centre  in  happiness.  There  is  a  joy  in- 
separable from  right  doing.  All  these 
motives  are  in  place,  and  may  be  timely. 
But  the  principle  in  the  use  of  motives  for 
one's  self,  or  for  others,  should  be  that  of 
advance.     Life  consists  not  only  in  doing 


TO   THE  TRUTH  143 

better  things,  or  doing  the  same  right 
things  in  a  better  way,  but  also  in  doing 
them  for  a  better  reason.  It  is  this  alone 
which  explains  the  change  in  some  people 
when  they  become  Christians.  They  keep 
on  doing  the  very  same  things.  They  do 
not  change  their  business.  They  do  not 
change,  of  necessity,  their  methods.  They 
have  changed  their  motives,  and  in  the 
light  of  that  change  all  life  has  been 
purified,  refined,  and  ennobled.  It  is  this 
which  explains  the  growth  in  so  many 
Christians.  They  are  acting  from  higher 
and  higher  reasons.  The  lower  reasons 
have  been  supplanted.  Their  lives  are 
growing  in  unity.  They  are  reaching  the 
Christian  standard.  I  cannot  make  too 
much  of  the  power  of  motive  rightly  ap- 
plied, first  to  change  men,  and  then  to 
purify  and  increase  their  lives.  And  a 
great  deal  of  the  quality  of  this  power 
depends  upon  the  quality  of  the  motive  in 
the  thought  of  the  preacher.  One  preacher 
will  secure  large  tangible  results  by  the 
use  of  lower  motives;  another  preacher 
will  secure  equally  large  and  tangible  re- 
sults  by  the   use  of  the    higher  motives. 


144    WHAT  PREACHER  OWES  TO  TRUTH 

Does  any  one  question  where  the  advan- 
tage Hes  ? 

These,  then,  are  the  responsibilities,  as 
I  conceive,  of  the  preacher  to  the  truth. 
He  is  commissioned  to  get  a  hearing  for 
the  truth.  He  has  no  right  to  be  satisfied 
with  a  meagre  response.  God  has  given 
him  the  truth,  the  freedom  of  his  personal- 
ity, and  means  to  be  used  according  to  his 
own  invention.  He  is  to  see  that  the  truth 
is  rightly  interpreted,  that  no  type  of  mind 
is  excluded  by  reason  of  its  limitations,  and 
that  every  hospitable  mind  is  filled  to  the 
full.  And  he  is  allowed  to  share  in  the  very 
motive  of  God  himself  in  the  utterance  of 
truth.  A  part  of  his  education  is  made  to 
consist  in  the  appreciation  and  use  of  the 
highest  motives.  And  the  reward  of  his 
ceaseless  persuasion  of  men  is  to  be  found 
in  the  quality  of  the  new  life  which  he  gives 
back  to  God  as  the  result  of  his  ministry. 


VI 

WHAT   THE    PREACHER   OWES    TO    MEN 

If  the  responsibility  of  the  preacher  to 
the  truth  is  sacred,  no  less  sacred  is  his  re- 
sponsibility to  men.  I  do  not  know  which 
obligation  is  the  more  difficult  to  satisfy. 
Probably  it  varies  with  the  preacher  himself. 
With  one  man,  the  ardor  for  truth  sur- 
passes the  passion  for  men.  With  another, 
the  love  of  men  exceeds  in  urgency,  at 
least,  the  love  of  truth.  I  should  say,  how- 
ever, that  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  the  preacher  was  his  feeling  toward 
men.  Others  may  share  to  the  full  his 
feeling  toward  the  truth,  scholars,  inquir- 
ers, believers,  but  few  are  able  to  come  into 
like  sensitive  relation  to  the  human  soul. 

What  does  the  preacher  owe  to  men  ? 
How  shall  we  take  the  measure  of  his 
obligation  ? 

Let  me  begin  with  what  is  fundamental. 
If  I  cannot  ground  the  obligation  of  the 


146       WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

preacher  to  men  in  something  deeper  and 
firmer  than  sentiment,  my  words  can  have 
little  meaning. 

The  first  thing,  then,  which  the  preacher 
owes  to  men  is  the  clear  understanding 
and  unconditional  acceptance  of  Christ's 
view  of  humanity.  Christ's  estimate  of 
men,  his  way  of  looking  at  men,  his  whole 
conception  of  humanity,  must  become  a 
part  of  the  preacher's  thinking,  the  very 
habit  of  his  mind.  What  was  Christ's  esti- 
mate of  humanity  ?  What  was  the  con- 
tribution which  Christ  made  to  man's 
thought  of  himself,  to  the  thought  which 
the  race  might  have  of  itself?  Jesus 
Christ  gave  to  the  human  race  that  new 
conception  of  itself  which,  as  fast  as  it  has 
been  apprehended,  man  by  man,  has  been 
changing  the  order  of  the  world.  It  was 
a  religious  conception,  but  it  had  other 
than  religious  uses.  It  was  good  for  all 
the  possible  needs  of  humanity.  It  was 
the  simple  but  then  rare  conception,  every 
man  a  child  of  God.  That  truth  gave 
every  man  a  standing  in  the  world.  It 
was  fundamental.  It  was  communicable. 
It  was  part   of    the    glad   tidings.      And 


TO   MEN  147 

as  it  went  abroad  under  the  sanction  of 
religion,  it  was  commissioned  to  do  any- 
work  for  man  to  which  he  was  entitled  as 
a  child  of  God.  The  question  is  often 
asked,  Why  did  not  Christ  say  something 
directly  about  slavery,  about  political  ty- 
ranny, about  any  of  the  specific  wrongs  of 
his  age  ?  The  sufBcient  answer  is  that  he 
said  the  one  word  which  could  avail  for  his 
own  age,  and  which  could  not  be  super- 
seded in  time. 

This  word  of  Christ  is  now  almost  lost 
in  the  commonplace,  but  at  its  time  it 
brought  in  the  one  value  which  had  always 
been  wanting.  Man  had  never  had  any 
value  to  himself  as  man.  Man  had  had 
standing  in  the  world,  but  not  as  man. 
History  had  been  the  record  of  heroes 
only,  not  even  of  peoples.  Ordinary  men 
were  of  no  account.  When,  therefore, 
Christ  put  this  new  valuation  upon  man, 
partly  through  what  he  was  in  himself, 
partly  through  what  he  did  and  suffered, 
and  partly  through  the  idea  which  he  sent 
abroad  into  all  the  world,  it  was  inevitable 
that  history  must  be  written  in  a  new 
language. 


148       WHAT   THE  PREACHER   OWES 

I  would  that  I  could  take  this  truth  of 
Jesus  out  of  the  commonplace  of  our  reli- 
gious thinking  and  make  it  real  to  you  in 
its  original  meaning.  Let  me  recall  a  para- 
graph from  a  book  which  you  have  been 
reading  of  late,  which  brings  out  the  ap- 
parent impossibility  of  the  new  idea  as  it 
came  into  the  world.  I  quote  from  the 
letter  of  the  Roman  philosopher  and  man 
of  the  world,  Petronius,  to  his  young  friend 
Vinicius,  who  had  urged  upon  him  the 
Christian  faith,  to  which  he  had  become 
a  convert :  — 

"  No,  Vinicius,  thy  religion  is  not  for 
me.  Am  I  to  love  the  Bithynians  who 
carry  my  litter,  the  Egyptians  who  heat 
my  bath  ?  I  swear  by  the  white  knees  of 
the  Graces  that  if  I  wished  to  love  them  I 
could  not.  In  Rome  there  are  a  hundred 
thousand  persons  at  least  who  have  either 
crooked  shoulders  or  big  knees,  or  thin 
thighs,  or  staring  eyes,  or  heads  that  are 
too  large.  Dost  thou  command  me  to 
love  them,  too  ?  Where  am  I  to  find  the 
love,  since  it  is  not  in  my  heart  ?  And  if 
thy  God  desires  me  to  love  such  persons, 
why  in  his  all  might  did  he  not  give  them 


TO   MEN  149 

the  form  of  Niobe's  children,  for  example, 
which  thou  hast  seen  on  the  Palatine  ? 
Who  loves  beauty  is  for  that  very  reason 
unable  to  love  deformity." 

Whatever  exaggerations  the  book  from 
which  I  have  quoted  may  hold,  this  pro- 
test is  no  exaggeration  of  the  pagan  feeling 
toward  man  as  man.  The  virtues  which 
Christianity  enjoined  —  love  the  forgive- 
ness of  enemies,  and  the  like  —  seemed 
impossible  virtues.  And  all  for  the  reason 
that  man  as  man  had  no  standing  in  the 
world.  Even  the  greatest  and  best  men 
had  taken  little  pride  in  their  humanity. 
Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  it  were  still  so. 
It  is  so  much  more  to  be  a  philosopher,  an 
orator,  a  ruler,  a  maker  of  money,  or  man- 
ager of  affairs,  any  one  of  these  things, 
than  to  be  simply  great  in  one's  humanity ! 
You  can  see,  then,  the  difficulty  which 
Christ  must  have  had  in  introducing  this 
principle,  and  of  making  it  actually  an  ac- 
cepted truth,  first  to  make  the  best  men 
believe  it  of  themselves  and  act  upon  it, 
changing  their  ideals  and  also  their  ambi- 
tions and  desires,  and  then  to  make  them 
believe  it  of  others,  this  Pharisee  of  this 


I50       WHAT  THE   PREACHER   OWES 

publican,  this  Greek  of  this  barbarian,  this 
master  of  this  slave  ;  and  then  to  make 
these  other  men  believe  it  of  themselves, 
these  men  who  could  not  idealize  them- 
selves, who  had  no  sense  of  the  meaning 
and  worth  of  the  human,  to  make  them 
believe  that  they,  too,  were  sons  of  God, 
and  had  a  standing  in  God's  world. 

And  the  difficulty  is  still  immense.  It 
is  for  this  reason  that  I  am  saying  so  much 
about  it.  It  is  so  hard  to  get  at  the  idea 
of  Christ  in  its  perfect  simplicity,  and  hold 
it  in  its  right  proportions.  We  are  apt  to 
pass  to  one  extreme  or  the  other  in  our 
thought  of  men.  The  pagan's  estimate 
was  based  on  his  natural  or  trained  likes 
and  dislikes.  He  loved  the  beautiful,  he 
honored  the  heroic.  For  the  opposites  he 
had  only  contempt  or  hate.  The  Chris- 
tian is  apt  to  go  to  the  other  extreme,  to 
estimate  his  Christianity  altogether  by  its 
power  to  overcome  his  dislikes  or  hates. 
For  the  exercise  of  love  he  relies  upon  the 
incitement  of  pity.  He  waits  the  appeal 
which  comes  to  him  from  want  or  misery 
or  sin.  We  have  come  to  count  it  a  virtue 
to  love  men  according   to   the   incidents 


TO   MEN  151 

in  their  character  or  conditions.  It  was 
this  principle  which  led  Cardinal  Manning 
to  pass  his  generous  encomium  upon  the 
Salvation  Army  as  the  only  considerable 
body  of  Christians  who  had  ever  shown  a 
passion  for  sinners  just  because  they  were 
sinners.  Now  Christ's  position  is  very 
much  broader  and  more  fundamental  than 
either  of  these.  The  estimate  which  he 
enjoins  is  not  simply  respect  for  high  at- 
tainment, nor  pity  for  low  condition.  It 
unites  the  recognition  and  acknowledg- 
ment and  support  of  the  fact,  let  it  go 
where  it  will,  —  every  man  a  child  of  God. 

What !  must  I  love  the  man  who  does 
not  need  me,  who  has  no  outward  wants 
which  are  unsatisfied,  this  rich  man,  per- 
chance, who  is  entirely  independent  of  me, 
and  with  whom  I  have  no  tastes  in  com- 
mon }  Certainly ;  otherwise  why  am  I  any 
broader  than  the  Roman  who  could  not 
love  the  Bithynians  who  carried  his  litter, 
or  the  Egyptians  who  heated  his  bath  ? 

Do  you  not  see  the  difficulty  of  accept- 
ing Christ's  estimate,  the  difficulty  of  even 
understanding  it  ?  And  yet  there  it  is,  the 
very  first  thing  which  meets  us  in  Chris- 


152       WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

tianity,  just  as  plain  as  the  view  which  he 
gave  us  of  God.  I  cannot  lay  too  much 
stress  upon  this  obligation  to  think  of  and 
look  upon  every  man  as  a  child  of  God. 
I  speak  of  it  as  expressed  in  the  estimate 
or  conception  we  have  of  men,  rather  than 
in  a  doctrine  about  men.  We  are  apt  to 
retire  our  doctrines.  They  represent  the 
truth  we  have  on  deposit.  They  fulfill  a 
very  needful  and  substantial  office  in  this 
respect.  But  we  need  also  thoughts,  views, 
estimates,  which  are  never  apart  from  us, 
which  we  always  take  with  us  on  the  street, 
and  into  the  house,  the  office,  and  the  shop. 
We  must  allow  a  large  liberty  in  the 
application  of  so  great  and  difficult  a  prin- 
ciple. It  is  not  possible  for  one  man  to 
think  of  his  fellowman  precisely  as  an- 
other man  may  think  of  him.  Tempera- 
ments vary.  We  are  allowed  to  reach  the 
same  ends  by  different  methods.  One  of 
the  most  human  preachers  of  our  time,  a 
man  whose  name  was  almost  a  synonym 
for  the  human,  once  said  to  a  friend,  "  I 
love  man  and  hate  men."  That  was  not 
so  bad  a  saying  as  it  appears  to  be  on  its 
face.     His  love  worked  from  the  ideal  into 


TO   MEN  153 

the  real,  from  man  down  into  men,  over- 
coming on  its  way  his  natural  dislikes. 
This  is  the  opposite  in  method  of  the  love 
which  shows  itself  first  in  interest  in  cases. 
Objects  of  pity  or  commiseration  come  be- 
fore one.  One  begins  to  be  interested  in 
them.  Interest  spreads  from  the  individ- 
ual to  the  class.  Finally  it  comes  out  into 
a  great  generalization. 

I  recall  a  fine  example  of  the  latter  and 
more  common  method  in  the  person  of  a 
well-known  philanthropist  of  New  York, 
who  for  more  than  half  a  century  followed 
the  lead  of  individual  want  and  suffering 
into  the  class  which  it  might  represent. 
The  personal  relief  of  the  poor  brought  to 
light  the  child  of  poverty,  the  child  of  pov- 
erty led  the  way  to  his  crippled  brother, 
the  diseased  child  pointed  to  the  suffer- 
ing mother.  When  I  knew  my  honored 
friend,  he  had  passed  his  threescore  and 
ten  years.  An  incident  associated  with  his 
greatest  personal  bereavement  revealed  to 
me  the  whole  spirit  of  his  life.  As  I  called 
upon  him  in  his  sorrow,  he  took  me  after  a 
little  into  the  presence  of  his  dead,  and 
there  talked  as  only  the  voice  of  love  and 


154      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

age  could  speak.  Suddenly  he  stopped, 
put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  took  out  a 
check.  "  There,"  he  said,  "  is  a  check  for 
twenty-five  thousand  from  Mrs.  Stewart 
for  my  woman's  hospital."  Then,  resum- 
ing the  conversation  as  if  there  had  been 
no  interruption,  there  really  had  been  none, 
he  covered  the  face  of  his  dead,  and  with- 
drew to  take  up  again  in  its  time  his  now 
solitary  but  still  joyous  course. 

The  preacher's  obligation  to  men,  upon 
which  I  have  thus  far  insisted,  shows  itself 
chiefly  in  the  breadth  of  its  application. 
Let  me  now  urge  the  necessity  for  a  cer- 
tain intensity  in  the  exercise  of  it.  The 
obli2:ation  cannot  be  satisfied  with  the  love 
for  men  which  does  not  have  in  it  the  ele- 
ment of  devotion  or  passion.  In  this  re- 
gard it  simply  demands  what  is  the  real 
characteristic  of  love  in  any  circumstance. 
You  have  the  suggestion  of  my  meaning 
in  a  line  from  one  of  the  recent  poems  of 
Stephen  Phillips.  It  is  the  reply  of  the 
earth  maiden  as  she  rejects  the  suit  of 
Apollo  on  the  ground  that  his  love  for  her 
would  surely  wane,  and  this  would  be  the 
sign  of  it :  — 


TO   MEN 

"  Thou  wouldst  grow  kind, 
Most  bitter  to  a  woman  who  was  loved." 


155 


"  Kindness  "  is  a  good  word,  a  word  of 
gentle  quality,  but  the  very  thoughtfulness 
which  it  implies,  the  premeditation  which 
it  assumes,  may  defeat  the  large  end  of 
love.  Kindness  is  not  that  irresistible, 
conquering  power  that  love  is.  It  may 
awaken  gratitude  and  create  a  permanent 
sense  of  obligation,  but  it  does  not  really 
overcome  and  capture  the  soul. 

The  preacher  will  certainly  come  short 
of  fulfilling  his  obligation  to  men  if  his 
love  for  them  does  not  rise  to  the  strength 
of  a  spiritual  passion  for  them.  It  must  be 
utterly  devoid  of  sentimentalism.  That  is 
too  weak  a  thing  to  speak  about.  It  must 
be  a  strong,  manly  passion,  but  it  must 
have  the  ardor  of  the  soul  in  it.  And 
this  alike  in  public  and  private,  when  the 
preacher  is  dealing  with  men  under  condi- 
tions which  invite  it.  Passion  is  somethino: 
which  has  its  times  and  seasons.  It  is  not 
for  all  times,  nor  for  all  subjects  in  the 
pulpit,  nor  for  all  the  circumstances  which 
invite  the  preacher's  attention.  There 
must  be  a  proportion  in  the  expression  of 


156      WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

love.  Usually  the  man  who  has  it  in  any 
real  depth  of  feeling  will  give  the  fit  ex- 
pression to  it.  It  will  come  forth  sponta- 
neously, and  according  to  the  real  demand 
for  it.  There  is  nothing  so  impressive  as 
the  irrepressible  outburst  of  feeling  on  the 
part  of  a  man  whose  feelings  are  usually 
under  strong  restraint. 

The  obligation  of  the  preacher  to  men, 
let  me  say  further,  has  one  of  its  most 
timely  expressions  in  sympathy.  That  is 
the  exact  quality  which  is  called  for  in 
our  time  more  than  any  other.  It  meets 
the  general  situation  as  nothing  else  can. 
It  gives  the  preacher  access  where  other- 
wise access  will  certainly  be  denied  him. 
The  preacher,  as  we  have  seen,  if  he  has 
caught  the  secret  of  his  Master,  has  learned 
to  pay  his  respects  to  humanity  in  whom- 
soever it  may  be  represented,  and  at  any 
cost.  Respect  is  the  prince  of  influence. 
It  is  the  respecting  element  in  Christianity, 
more  than  the  pitying  element,  which  is 
the  peculiar  sign  of  its  power.  Sympathy 
measures  the  respect  we  feel  for  those  who 
are  in  circumstances  and  conditions  below 
us.    It  is  a  very  different  quality  from  pity, 


TO   MEN  157 

or  from  chanty  in  any  of  its  common 
forms.  It  is  the  recognition  of  the  human 
element  which  survives  poverty  and  even 
degradation ;  it  is  the  acknowledgment  of 
the  underlying  equality  between  man  and 
man  beneath  all  varying  conditions ;  it  is 
the  appreciation  of  the  endeavor  and  am- 
bition to  rise  to  higher  levels  ;  it  is  above 
all  the  willingness  to  make  room  for  men 
as  they  rise,  and  to  welcome  them  to 
the  places  which  they  have  earned.  Pity 
ceases  when  the  object  of  commiseration 
has  been  lifted  a  little  out  of  the  low 
estate.  Charity,  which  gives  alms,  follows 
a  little  way  above  in  the  ascending  scale. 
Sympathy  attends  the  man  all  the  way 
up  till  he  has  reached  the  level  of  his 
manhood. 

Now  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  the  moral 
solvent  of  the  present  social  situation  is  not 
pity,  it  is  not  charity  in  any  of  its  common 
manifestations,  it  is  sympathy.  Analyze 
the  situation,  study  society  where  the  strug- 
gle is  going  on,  and  you  will  discover  two 
clearly  defined  movements,  the  upward  and 
the  downward;  one  class  ascending,  the 
other  descending  the  social  scale,  and  yet 


158       WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

not  far  apart.  On  the  one  hand  the  worn- 
out,  the  demoralized,  the  degraded,  falling 
steadily  to  the  bottom ;  on  the  other  hand 
a  certain  vital  element  gradually  emerging 
from  the  common  mass,  freeing  itself  from 
base  surroundings,  organizing  for  self-pro- 
tection and  self-advancement,  and  finally 
able  to  stand  with  comparative  security  and 
lend  a  helping  hand  to  those  in  the  crude 
mass  about  it.  Compare  now  the  attitude 
of  the  church  toward  the  upward  and  the 
downward  movements,  and  you  see  at  once 
that  it  shows  far  more  charity  for  the  fall- 
ing, than  sympathy  with  the  rising  class. 
On  occasion  like  that  of  the  strike  of  the 
East  London  dockers,  or  the  coal  strike 
in  England  for  the  living  wage,  sympathy 
is  shown  as  well  as  charity.  But,  as  a  rule, 
sympathy  in  distinction  from  charity  is  ab- 
sent ;  and  it  is  the  absence  of  this  precious 
quality  which  makes  the  breach  between 
what  is  known  collectively  as  labor  and  the 
church.  The  average  workingman  gives 
his  money,  his  time,  and  his  loyalty  to  his 
association  or  brotherhood,  and  looks  on 
with  indifference  or  amusement  while  the 
religious  world  discusses  the  reasons  why 


TO    MEN  159 

men  like  himself  do  not  fill  the  churches. 
If  I  were  discussing  the  attitudes  of  labor 
organizations  I  might  have  something  to 
say  of  their  spirit,  but  the  divine  function  of 
the  church  is  sympathy,  the  highest  possi- 
ble expression  of  its  enthusiasm  for  human- 
ity. And  judging  the  church  of  to-day  by 
this  test  I  cannot  claim  for  it  that  it  satis- 
fies in  any  reasonable  degree  the  require- 
ment of  its  Founder.  The  average  man 
within  the  church  does  not  understand  the 
average  man  without,  who  may  be  estranged 
from  the  church,  nor  does  he  take  pains 
to  understand  him.  He  may  know  the 
man  on  his  own  social  level  without,  but 
not  the  man  estranged,  and  who  has  his 
complaint. 

The  preacher  interprets  the  situation 
largely  through  his  sympathy.  And  in  the 
proper  expression  of  it  he  does  the  most 
which  in  him  lies  to  make  Christianity  real 
to  men  who  have  misunderstood  its  atti- 
tude. And  in  the  use  of  sympathy  the 
preacher  puts  Christianity  in  right  relation 
to  the  social  and  political  order  of  which 
we  are  a  part.  The  general  social  and  po- 
litical order  bears  the  name  of  democracy. 


i6o      WHAT  THE   PREACHER   OWES 

Democracy  means,  if  it  means  anything  in 
a  Christian  way,  the  sympathy  of  one  man 
with  another.  The  kind  of  equality  which 
it  stands  for  covers  every  lower  form  or 
expression  of  Christianity. 

One  of  the  most  delicate  obligations 
which  the  preacher  comes  under  to  men  is 
not  only  to  believe  in  them  himself,  but 
also  to  restore  the  faith  which  they  may 
have  lost  in  themselves.  A  preacher  learns 
with  time  not  to  take  men  at  their  own  es- 
timates, and  especially  not  to  take  too  seri- 
ously the  deprecatory  words  of  some  men 
about  themselves.  A  great  many  men  are 
talking  skepticism  who  are  not  skeptical. 
Let  the  preacher  waste  no  words  on  such. 
But  there  are  those  with  whom  loss  of 
faith  in  themselves  is  real,  and  to  outward 
appearance  justifiable.  They  have  fallen 
in  self-respect,  and  their  own  opinion  has 
been  accepted  and  confirmed  by  their  fel- 
lows. The  saddest  word  in  literature  is 
the  word  attributed  to  Lord  Byron :  "  Men 
took  me  to  be  what  I  said  I  was,  and  I 
came  to  be  what  they  thought  I  was."  So- 
ciety may  have  made  haste  to  accept  a  fool- 
ish name  or  reputation  which  a  man  may 


TO   MEN  i6i 

have  given  himself,  and  obliged  him  there- 
fore to  justify  it.  A  preacher  has  no  right 
to  take  any  man's  word  about  himself  or 
the  word  of  society  about  him  as  final. 
Jesus  Christ  alone  speaks  the  final  word. 
Until  that  has  been  spoken,  let  the  preacher 
believe  and  act  in  his  name. 

The  majority  of  cases  may  be  against 
one's  faith  in  men.  Grant  that.  There  is 
still  the  minority.  Who  knows  in  advance 
how  the  man,  who  is  most  faithless  in  him- 
self, and  most  hopeless  to  others,  is  to  be 
classified  ?  This  may  be  optimism.  It  is 
also  Christianity. 

The  wide  obligation,  however,  of  the 
preacher  to  the  individual  man,  whoever 
he  may  be,  who  comes  under  his  influence, 
is  that  of  interest  in  the  welfare  of  his  soul. 
As  there  can  be  no  motive  so  great,  so 
there  can  be  no  equal  and  corresponding 
obligation  like  that  which  comes  out  of  the 
realized  value  of  the  human  soul.  It  is 
really  the  unknown  factor  in  human  na- 
ture, which  is  so  much  more  than  the 
known.  It  is  the  great  item  in  the  mys- 
tery of  life.  What  makes  the  mystery  to 
us  of  the  future  state.?     Chiefly  the  fact 


i62       WHAT  THE   PREACHER   OWES 

that  for  ages  the  tide  of  human  Hfe  has 
been  flowing  into  it.  It  is  a  world  peo- 
pled with  souls  which  once  had  a  home  on 
this  green  earth.  The  future  represents 
the  value  of  the  soul  measured  by  dura- 
tion. There  are  other  measures,  but  above 
all  the  measure  of  equality,  the  measure 
of  influence,  the  measure  of  use.  No  one 
can  settle  the  question  whether  one  soul  is 
of  more  meaning  to  himself  or  to  others. 
We  cannot  go  beyond  the  word  of  Paul, 
"  No  man  liveth  unto  himself,  and  no  man 
dieth  unto  himself."  When  therefore  the 
preacher  thinks  of  the  worth  of  any  soul 
before  him,  it  cannot  be  in  its  separate- 
ness.  It  is  a  unit,  but  a  unit  in  countless 
and  vital  combinations. 

I  do  not  reach  too  far  into  the  pastoral 
relations  when  I  urge  this  interest  in  every 
one's  soul,  because  in  this  regard  the  pas- 
tor and  preacher  are  one.  One  of  the  most 
serious  questions  which  a  preacher  can  ask 
himself  is  this  :  What  am  I  doing  when  I 
am  not  preaching?  Where  are  my  thoughts, 
my  plans,  my  imperative  desires  and  long- 
ings .f*  Towards  what  ends  am  I  pushing 
with  the  constant  energies  of  my  nature  ? 


TO   MEN  163 

Preaching  is  not  an  end,  but  it  is  very 
easy  to  make  it  an  end.     Most  preachers 
do  make  it  a  chief  end,  in  that  they  make 
it  the  climax  of  their  energy  and  thought 
and  spiritual  purpose.     The  strong  tides 
of  their  spiritual  being  do  not  underrun 
their  preaching,  flowing  out  with  it  into 
the  great  life  toward  which  it  points.     Dr. 
Pentecost  has  told  this  of   himself.      He 
was  preaching  at  one  time  in  the  presence 
of  Dr.  Bonar,  enjoying,  as  a  man  will,  the 
luxury   of    proclaiming    the    gospel.    Dr. 
Bonar  came  to  him  at  the  close,  touched 
him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said,  "  You  love 
to  preach,  don't  you  ?  "    "  Yes,  I  do."    "  Do 
you  love  men  to  whom  you  preach  ?  "    That 
was  a  much  deeper  question,  and  it  is  worth 
every  man's  asking,  when  he  finds  himself 
more  in  love  with  the  truth,  or  with  the 
proclamation  of  it,  than  with  men  to  whom, 
and  for  whom,  the  truth  has  been  revealed. 
There  is  a  love  of  men  which  the  sermon 
cannot  satisfy.    And  the  right  to  preach  to 
men  carries  with  it  other  rights  in  their  be- 
half. Preaching  is  simply  the  acknowledged 
sign,  the  warrant  of  what  Bushnell  calls 
"the   property  rights  we    have  in  souls." 


i64      WHAT   THE   PREACHER  OWES 

The  man,  therefore,  as  he  follows  after  the 
preacher  is  not  a  spiritual  impertinence. 
He  may  of  course  make  himself  such,  but 
not  if  he  acts  wisely  and  tenderly,  and 
above  all  things  manfully.  It  is  the  habit 
of  some  preachers  to  follow  the  sermon 
with  the  personal  letter,  others  with  timely 
conversation,  others  with  the  opportunity 
of  the  after  meeting.  In  some  cases  these 
personal  methods  may  not  be  necessary. 
Preaching  may  be  so  quickening  as  to 
create  of  itself  an  ofHce  practice  for  the 
preacher.  Those  who  have  listened  to  his 
words  may  be  so  awakened  and  stimulated 
that  they  will  come  to  him  and  ask  him  for 
further  help  in  the  life  of  the  soul. 

When  a  preacher  has  made  a  man  aware 
of  his  soul,  then  comes  the  work  of  helping 
him  to  save  it.  And  when  that  is  well  be- 
gun then  the  long  task  of  showing  him  how 
to  use  his  soul.  This  is  the  continuous 
work  of  the  preacher ;  this  the  work  of 
edification,  the  building  up  of  character, 
through  the  right  and  noble  use  of  the 
powers  of  the  whole  nature.  Preaching 
to  this  end,  as  you  can  well  see,  must  be 
thoroughly  constructive   and  stimulating. 


TO   MEN  165 

It  must  point  out  ways  of  helpfulness,  and 
set  the  feet  of  men  in  them.  It  must  show 
the  opportunities  which  attend  every  ad- 
vance in  this  life,  every  gain  in  knowledge, 
all  increase  in  riches,  all  growths  in  repu- 
tation or  influence.  It  must  hold  secure 
to  the  great  consistencies,  honesty,  justice, 
charity  of  mind  as  well  as  of  heart,  nobility 
of  thought  and  of  ambition,  humility,  and, 
if  need  be,  self-sacrifice. 

I  had  hoped  that  I  might  be  able  to  say 
something  about  the  relation  of  the  preacher 
to  men  in  combination,  that  is,  to  society, 
without  exceeding  the  proper  length  of  this 
lecture,  or  breaking  its  unity.  But  I  find 
that  I  must  reserve  what  I  would  otherwise 
say  now  to  my  next  lecture  on  the  pulpit 
and  the  church. 

Before  I  close  I  wish  to  go  back  to 
gather  up  a  phrase  which  I  quoted  from 
Dr.  Bushnell,  namely,  the  property  rights 
which  we  have  in  souls.  It  would  not  be 
altogether  fair  to  insist,  as  I  have  done, 
upon  the  obligations  under  which  we  stand 
to  men,  so  strong  and  severe,  so  hard  to 
fulfill,  so  hard  even  to  understand,  without 
showing  in  a  word  how  the  fulfillment  of 


i66       WHAT   THE   PREACHER   OWES 

them  goes  into  the  making  of  the  preacher. 
The  preacher  cannot  hope  to  make  any 
lasting:  contribution  to  the  truth.  Most 
sermons  are  a  waste,  viewed  as  Hterature. 
Some  go  out  into  their  generation  and 
gain  a  wide  constituency.  Here  and  there 
a  sermon  Hves  in  tradition.  It  did  some- 
thing that  men  never  cease  to  admire  and 
wonder  at,  though  they  may  be  no  longer 
impressed  by  it.  Occasionally  a  sermon 
goes  over.  Some  preachers  cover  two  gen- 
erations, their  own  and  the  next. 

But  as  the  preacher  tries  to  reckon  the  per- 
manent in  his  work,  as  he  stops  from  time  to 
time,  as  he  surely  will,  to  ask  himself  what 
does  it  all  mean  to  him,  his  only  sure  and 
satisfactory  answer  will  come  from  men. 
His  property  rights  are  there.  There  are 
his  spiritual  earnings.  The  return  into  his 
life  is  out  of  the  life  of  men,  first,  in  what 
they  are,  changed  in  the  direction  of  their 
purposes,  or  changed  in  the  level  of  their 
aspirations  ;  then  in  what  they  have  done, 
the  better  deed  in  place  of  the  low  or  base, 
or  in  place  of  no  deed  at  all  —  the  helpful, 
saving  word  in  place  of  the  unspoken,  un- 
thought  word  of  brotherly  kindness  and 


TO   MEN  167 

charity.  Something  of  all  this  finds  its  way 
back  into  the  preacher's  consciousness,  and 
helps  him  to  preach.  And  if  men  do  not 
tell  him,  let  him  not  be  faithless  and  unbe- 
lieving. A  preacher  is  entitled  to  the  full 
advantage  of  the  known  and  unknown  re- 
sults of  his  ministry.  The  unknown,  I  say; 
for  one  may  be  sure  that  if  there  be  known 
results  there  will  be  unknown  results,  with 
the  probability,  yes,  the  certainty,  that  the 
unknown  will  exceed  the  known.  That  goes 
with  the  nature  of  the  service.  And  some- 
times a  glimpse  into  the  unknown,  a  mes- 
sage from  the  unexpected,  though  it  be  of 
another's  work,  tells  him  what  to  believe  of 
himself  and  of  his  own  work. 

Canon  Twells,  in  one  of  his  colloquies 
on  Preaching,  introduces  his  readers  to  a 
conversation  between  a  rector  and  a  vicar 
on  results  in  preaching.  The  conversation 
opens  with  a  bit  of  raillery,  but  as  it  pro- 
ceeds it  grows  more  serious.  At  one  point 
the  rector  falls  into  a  desponding  mood, 
like  Bunyan's  Christian,  and  the  vicar  plays 
the  part  of  Bunyan's  Hopeful.  The  collo- 
quy closes  with  this  incident,  told  by  the 
vicar  :  — 


i68     WHAT   PREACHER   OWES   TO    MEN 

"A  friend  of  mine,  a  layman,  was  once  in 
the  company  of  a  very  eminent  preacher, 
then  in  the  decHne  of  life.  My  friend  hap- 
pened to  remark  what  a  comfort  it  must  be 
to  think  of  all  the  good  he  had  done  by  his 
gift  of  eloquence.  The  eyes  of  the  old 
man  filled  with  tears.  '  You  little  know  ! 
You  little  know !  If  I  ever  turned  one 
heart  from  the  ways  of  disobedience  to  the 
wisdom  of  the  just,  God  has  withheld  the 
assurance  from  me.  I  have  been  admired 
and  flattered  and  run  after ;  but  how  gladly 
I  would  forget  all  that,  to  be  told  of  one 
single  soul  I  have  been  instrumental  in 
saving  ! '  The  eminent  preacher  entered 
into  his  rest.  There  was  a  great  funeral. 
Many  passed  around  the  grave  who  had 
oftentimes  hung  entranced  upon  his  lips. 
My  friend  was  there,  and  by  his  side  was 
a  stranger,  who  was  so  deeply  moved  that 
when  all  was  over  my  friend  said  to  him, 
'  You  knew  him,  I  suppose  ? '  '  Knew  him/ 
was  the  reply,  '  no ;  I  never  spoke  to  him, 
but  I  owe  to  him  my  soul.' " 


VII 

THE    PULPIT   AND    THE    CHURCH 

If  the  question  were  asked  under  some 
forms  of  Christianity,  what  is  the  deter- 
mining factor  in  the  making  or  the  un- 
making of  the  preacher  ?  the  answer  would 
be,  the  church.  In  saying  this,  I  do  not 
refer,  of  course,  to  those  forms  of  Christian- 
ity which  practically  obliterate  preaching. 
Ritualism  has  no  logical  place  for  preach- 
ing, because  in  its  conception  of  the  church 
it  makes  no  sufficient  allowance  for  the  per- 
sonality of  the  preacher.  The  Church  of 
Rome,  it  is  to  be  said,  whether  logically  or 
illogically,  has  always  honored  preaching. 
It  has  always  kept  great  preachers  at  com- 
mand, and  has  made  special  provision  for 
their  training. 

But  although  I  am  not  prepared  to  ac- 
cept some  theories  of  the  church  which  are 
held  under  Protestant  Christianity,  where 
preaching  still  remains  a  power,  I  am  desir- 


lyo  THE   PULPIT 

ous  of  emphasizing  most  clearly  the  rela- 
tion of  the  preacher,  as  such,  to  the  church. 
And  if  I  do  not  speak  of  his  obligation  to 
the  church  in  the  same  way  in  which  I 
have  spoken  of  his  obligation  to  the  truth 
and  to  men,  it  is  because  I  conceive  of  his 
relation  to  it  in  another  aspect.  I  want  to 
show  you  how  much  the  church  means  to 
the  preacher,  how  it  ministers  to  him,  sup- 
ports and  strengthens  him,  how  in  its  local 
organizations  it  offers  itself  to  him  to  be 
used  as  a  great  agency  or  instrument  for 
the  advancement  of  righteousness,  and  how 
it  becomes  the  reservoir  into  which  he  may 
pour  his  life,  the  institution  into  which  he 
may  build  himself  and  his  work. 

It  is  the  church,  we  are  to  remind  our- 
selves at  the  outset,  which  gives  to  the 
preacher  validity  to  his  message.  Formally 
this  is  effected  through  the  preacher's  ordi- 
nation. That  act  authorizes  him  to  stand 
before  men  in  the  name  of  the  church,  and 
to  declare  the  truth  under  its  sanctions. 
The  church  guarantees  the  character  of 
the  preacher,  his  fitness  to  speak,  and  in 
general  the  subject  matter  of  his  preach- 
ing, no  mean  advantage  to  any  man  at  any 


AND   THE   CHURCH  171 

time,  but  of  incalculable  value  at  the  begin- 
ning of  one's  profession.  No  man  starts 
upon  his  professional  course  with  such  a 
presumption  in  his  favor  as  the  preacher. 
The  church  creates  that  presumption.  Or- 
dination is  far  more  to  the  minister  than 
the  sanction  of  one's  profession  which  ad- 
mits to  the  bar  or  to  the  practice  of  medi- 
cine. It  carries  with  it  an  assurance,  coop- 
eration, and  protection,  for  which  there  is 
no  parallel. 

I  will  take  a  moment's  time  to  bring  out 
the  moral  sympathy  and  support  which  un- 
derlie the  ecclesiastical  form.  Let  me  con- 
trast in  this  regard  the  prophet  with  the 
preacher.  The  prophet  was  an  anointed 
man.  There  was  a  prophetic  succession. 
But  the  prophet  was  a  lonely  man.  He 
dwelt  apart.  He  did  not  frequent  the 
places  where  men  came  together,  where 
life  thickened  and  grew  dense.  He  was  a 
man  of  occasions.  The  infrequency  of  his 
appearances,  his  remoteness  from  the  com- 
mon ways,  gave  the  power  of  mystery  to 
his  words.  And  the  truth  which  he  uttered 
was  chiefly  for  occasions.  It  was  not  the 
every-day  subject  of  the  pulpit.    It  was  not 


172  THE   PULPIT 

necessarily  the  unknown  truth  which  he 
proclaimed,  but  it  was  the  unapplied  truth, 
the  neglected  truth.  The  prophet  was 
strongest  when  he  was  armed  with  the 
antagonism  of  truth.  His  chief  reliance 
was  the  awakened  conscience.  Recall  the 
commission  of  Jeremiah  :  "  Thou  therefore 
gird  up  thy  loins,  and  arise,  and  speak 
unto  them  all  that  I  command  thee:  be 
not  dismayed  at  their  faces,  lest  I  confound 
thee  before  them.  For,  behold,  I  have 
made  thee  this  day  a  defensed  city,  and  an 
iron  pillar,  and  brazen  walls  against  the 
whole  land,  against  the  kings  of  Judah, 
against  the  princes  thereof,  against  the 
priests  thereof,  and  against  the  people  of 
the  land.  And  they  shall  fight  against 
thee;  but  they  shall  not  prevail  against 
thee ;  for  I  am  with  thee,  saith  the  Lord, 
to  deliver  thee." 

Preaching  has  in  it  the  prophetic  ele- 
ment. The  preacher  is  charged  to  de- 
clare the  whole  counsel  of  God,  and  that, 
still,  whether  men  will  hear  or  will  forbear 
to  hear.  There  are  times  when  denuncia- 
tion must  be  strong  and  persistent,  when  a 
preacher  must   lift  up  his  voice  before  a 


AND   THE   CHURCH  173 

community  and  cry  aloud  and  spare  not. 
But  that  is  the  unusual  work  of  the  pul- 
pit. Ordinarily  the  preacher  speaks  with 
the  consenting  voice  of  the  church.  The 
common  truth  which  he  utters  is  a  part  of 
the  common  experience.  Preaching  at  its 
best  is  quite  apt  to  be  an  interpretation 
of  the  Christian  consciousness  at  its  best. 
As  the  preacher  rises  in  the  utterance  of 
his  faith,  men  about  him  are  saying,  "  Yes, 
that  is  what  we  have  felt,  but  have  never 
been  able  to  tell.  Go  on,  speak  for  us,  that 
is  our  faith."  Preaching  on  its  interpreta- 
tive and  representative  side  is  a  recognized 
fact.  The  pulpit  and  the  church  cannot 
be  separated  in  the  minds  of  men.  The 
validity  of  the  preacher's  message  is  more 
than  that  which  comes  from  any  ecclesias- 
tical guarantee ;  it  has  in  it  the  consenting, 
supporting,  persuading  life  of  the  church. 

Intimately  connected  with  this  direct 
power  which  the  church  confers  upon  the 
preacher  is  the  aid  which  it  affords  him 
through  various  forms  of  religious  impres- 
sions. Of  course  this  is  more  apparent  in 
the  liturgical  than  in  the  non-liturgical 
churches,  but  the  church  always  and  every- 


174  THE   PULPIT 

where  creates  an  atmosphere  which  is  un- 
mistakable. Reduce  the  church  in  all  its 
appointments  to  the  minimum,  let  it  be  the 
old  New  England  meeting-house,  with  a 
service  as  plain  and  bare  as  the  walls  of 
the  house,  still  the  impression  is  there.  Do 
you  not  remember  the  fine  touch  in  "  Nor- 
wood," as  Mr.  Beecher  describes  the  close 
of  a  service  in  the  village  church?  The 
horse  jockey  of  the  village  and  the  doctor 
have  driven  up,  and  are  waiting  for  the 
congregation  to  come  out.  The  jockey 
is  talking  glibly  to  the  doctor  about  the 
neighbors'  teams  which  are  standing  in  the 
horse  shed.  Soon  the  last  hymn  is  heard. 
"  '  There,  doctor,  there  's  the  last  hymn  ! ' 
It  rose  upon  the  air,  softened  by  distance 
and  the  inclosure  of  the  building,  rose  and 
fell  in  regular  movement.  Even  Hiram's 
tongue  ceased.  The  vireo,  in  the  top  of 
the  elm,  hushed  its  shrill  snatches.  Again 
the  hymn  rose,  and  this  time  fuller  and 
louder,  as  if  the  whole  congregation  had 
caught  the  spirit.  Men's  and  women's 
voices,  and  little  children's,  were  in  it. 
Hiram  said,  without  any  of  his  usual  pert- 
ness  :  '  Doctor,  there  's  somethin'  in  folks' 


AND  THE  CHURCH  175 

singin'  when  you  are  outside  the  church 
that  makes  you  feel  as  though  you  ought 
to  be  inside.' " 

The  art  of  religious  impression  as  it  has 
been  developed  by  the  church  invites  the 
study  of  the  preacher.  I  assume  that  you 
approach  the  subject  without  prejudice. 
Puritanism  no  longer  exists  as  a  protest 
against  form  in  worship.  The  Puritan  of 
to-day  is  not  at  this  point  the  purifier. 
The  last  determined  opposition  to  the  en- 
richment of  worship  of  which  I  had  per- 
sonal knowledge  was  in  the  case  of  a 
clergyman  of  the  old  school,  who,  after  the 
anthem  had  been  introduced  into  the  ser- 
vice of  his  church  against  his  will,  used  to 
rise  immediately  at  the  close,  and  say, 
"  We  will  now  begin  the  worship  of  God 
by  the  use  of  such  a  hymn." 

The  difficulty  to-day  in  the  non-liturgi- 
cal churches  lies  in  the  cheap  imitation, 
or  in  the  inartistic  substitute.  NothinQ^  is 
so  appalling  to  a  reverent  mind  as  the  in- 
troduction of  the  programme  into  so  many 
churches.  Instead  of  an  order  of  service 
we  have  a  musical  exhibition,  which  takes 
the  fortune  of  the   taste  of    the  musical 


176  THE   PULPIT 

committee  of  the  society.  It  was  a  Sun- 
day evening  performance  of  this  sort  which 
brought  out  the  famous  bit  of  caricature 
from  Dr.  Burton,  closing  with  the  "  final 
bellowings  of  the  organ,  after  which  dark- 
ness, silence,  and  the  restored  presence  of 
God." 

Where  shall  we  look  for  our  protection 
against  these  tendencies }  Partly  to  the 
people  themselves  whose  tastes  are  being 
refined,  and  who  are  becoming  more  able 
to  discriminate  between  the  true  and  the 
false  in  art,  but  chiefly  to  the  ministry,  as 
it  is  being  trained  to  the  appreciation,  if 
not  to  the  full  knowledge,  of  the  art  of 
spiritual  impression.  I  put  the  preacher 
especially  on  his  guard  against  the  usurpa- 
tion by  the  sermon  of  the  prerogatives  of 
worship.  Let  him  beware  of  thinking  of 
anything  which  precedes  the  sermon  as  a 
part  of  the  "  preliminary  service."  With 
all  the  stress  which  I  have  laid  upon 
preaching,  I  do  not  exalt  it  above  the 
other  great  office  of  worship.  Above  all, 
let  the  preacher  remember,  that  in  the 
simplicity  of  our  order  of  faith  he  is  the 
priest  as  well  as  the  preacher.     It  is  as 


AND   THE   CHURCH  177 

needful  for  him  to  enter  the  pulpit  in  the 
spirit  of  devotion  as  in  the  spirit  of  con- 
vincement  or  persuasion.  The  sermon 
ouQ-ht  not  to  dominate  his  mind  so  that 
he  cannot  pray  without  reading  his  ser- 
mon into  his  prayer.  Of  course  the 
danger  is  greater  from  the  extempore  than 
from  the  written  sermon.  Yet  in  either 
case  the  mind  may  be  so  possessed  by  a 
given  subject  that  it  is  inhospitable  to  the 
thousand  desires  and  longings  which  are 
to  find  expression  in  prayer,  if  the  min- 
ister is  to  interpret  the  heart  of  the  con- 
gregation. 

Pardon  a  personal  reference.  Early  in 
my  ministry,  as  I  was  endeavoring  to  train 
myself  toward  extempore  speech,  I  found 
that  the  most  serious  drawback  was  the 
preoccupation  of  mind  with  the  thought 
of  the  sermon  during  the  period  of  wor- 
ship. The  difficulty  became  so  great  that 
I  determined  to  free  my  mind  of  the  ser- 
mon for  that  time  at  any  cost,  and  as  I 
had  no  verbal  memory,  I  resolved  to  write 
into  the  sermon,  to  the  amount  of  five  or 
six  minutes,  and  read  what  I  had  written, 
passing  then  into  the  method  of  extempore 


lyS  THE   PULPIT 

speech.  The  precaution  thus  taken  became 
a  habit,  —  a  most  vicious  habit  as  far  as 
the  method  of  preaching  was  concerned, — 
but  a  concession  on  the  part  of  the  sermon 
to  worship,  which  I  accounted  none  too 
great  a  price  for  me  to  pay.  The  methods 
of  two  personal  friends  of  which  I  chance 
to  have  knowledge  are  better.  One  of 
them  is  in  the  habit  of  entering  the  pulpit 
an  hour  before  the  service,  and  of  going 
over  the  congregation  in  mind,  family  by 
family,  endeavoring  to  call  up  their  spirit- 
ual necessities  with  so  great  definiteness 
and  vividness  that  his  prayer  may  be  their 
prayer.  The  other  has  made  a  profound 
study  of  the  liturgies  of  the  churches,  not 
for  the  form  but  for  the  spirit  of  worship. 
He  does  not  memorize,  he  does  not  im- 
itate, but  he  does  seek  to  enter  into  the 
mind  of  the  church  as  in  its  collective 
thought,  or  in  the  thought  of  its  most  de- 
vout souls,  it  has  turned  toward  God. 

I  advise  the  careful  study  of  the  devo- 
tional habit  of  the  church.  The  preacher 
who  is  unsupported  by  any  formal  expres- 
sion of  the  life  of  the  church  in  worship 
ought  to  be  the  more  careful  that  he  has 


AND   THE   CHURCH  179 

the  true  supports  within  himself.     And  he 
ought  to  be  able  to  gain  every  advantage 
which  is  open  to  him  in  the  genuine  and 
unaffected  use  of  the  art  of  spiritual  ex- 
pression.    Let  no  man  think  that  he  can 
preach  so  well   that  it  matters  little  how 
he   prays,  or  how  the  congregation   wor- 
ships.      It    matters    much    how   the    best 
preachers  pray  and  how  the  congregations 
which  listen  to  them  worship.     I  recall  a 
remark  of  Professor  Ladd  after  he  came 
out   from    listening    to    Phillips    Brooks. 
"The  congregation,"  he  said,  "was  alive." 
The  attitude  and  mood  of  the  congrega- 
tion impressed  him  equally  with  the  spirit- 
ual  earnestness  of  the  preacher.     I  have 
come  away  under  the  same  impression  on 
the  two  or  three  occasions  when  I  have  at- 
tended St.  George's  Church  in  New  York. 
I  cannot  overestimate  the  value  to  the 
preacher,  as  the  preacher,  of  the  devotional 
spirit  of   the   congregation.      It  is  an  in- 
spiration.     Psalm  and  hymn,  anthem  and 
chant.    Scripture    and    creed    and   prayer, 
whatever  touches  the  heart  of  the  congre- 
gation and  makes  it  one  before  God,  will 
minister  to  him  in  all  his  spiritual  nature, 


i8o  THE   PULPIT 

if  he  will  allow  himself  to  become  re- 
sponsive to  it.  The  church,  through  its 
aroused  emotion,  has  opened  the  way  into 
the  individual  heart  for  the  entrance  of  his 


message. 


Not  only  does  the  church  give  validity 
to  the  message  of  the  preacher,  not  only 
does  it  support  him  through  the  power  of 
religious  impression,  it  gives  to  his  work 
the  advantage  of  definite  results.  So  far 
as  the  pulpit  represents  the  oratorical  tem- 
perament, there  is  constant  danger  that  its 
force  will  be  spent  in  the  excitement  of 
feeling.  A  great  many  preachers  leave 
their  hearers  aroused,  but  undirected  and 
unutilized.  They  stir  to  duty,  but  they 
point  out  no  duties  to  be  accomplished, 
nor  do  they  show  how  duty  may  be  done. 
Perhaps  this  is  the  most  common  weak- 
ness in  what  is  otherwise  very  effective 
preaching.  The  church  offers  the  best 
possible  corrective  for  this  weakness.  It 
makes  it  possible  for  the  preacher  to  lo- 
cate duty.  It  presents  the  opportunity  in 
various  ways  for  one  who  has  been  quick- 
ened to  right  doing  to  begin  at  once  to 
put  it  into  practice.      It  is  the  office  of 


AND   THE  CHURCH  i8i 

the  church  to  take  the  individual  life  from 
the  moment  when  it  begins  to  reach  out 
after  Christ,  and  train  it  to  discipleship ;  to 
give  it  congenial  associations ;  to  provide 
it  with  appropriate  incentives  and  with  ap- 
propriate opportunity  for  growth  ;  to  open 
to  it  paths  of  service.  Where  else  and  how 
else  can  the  soul  make  so  natural  and  com- 
plete a  commitment  of  itself  to  Christ  ? 
The  confession  of  Christ  is  the  fit  response 
to  the  conclusion  of  a  large  part  of  the  ser- 
mons of  the  preacher  even  when  they  do 
not  end  in  the  direct  appeal.  The  cove- 
nant of  the  church  shows  the  true  and 
proper  relation  into  which  one  is  to  come 
with  others  who  are  like-minded  and  of 
the  same  purpose.  And  when  once  the 
first  step  has  been  taken  in  the  acknow- 
ledgment of  Christ  and  in  association 
with  Christians,  then  the  church  stands 
for  direction,  helpfulness,  responsibility, 
and  enlargement  through  the  fulfillment 
of  duty. 

What  an  utterly  wasteful  and  extrava- 
gant force  the  pulpit  would  be  but  for  the 
church  which  follows  after  the  preacher 
and   gathers   up  and   utilizes   his   power. 


i82  THE   PULPIT 

Compare  the  work  of  the  evangelist  in 
this  regard  with  that  of  the  pastor.  The 
power  of  impression  on  the  part  of  the 
evangelist  is  greater  for  the  immediate 
time  than  that  of  the  pastor.  But  if  his 
work  is  detached  it  is  in  large  degree 
dissipated.  I  do  not  overestimate  statis- 
tics, but,  judged  by  any  of  the  large  tests 
which  centre  in  permanent  results,  the 
evangelist  has  little  to  show  when  his 
work  is  compared  with  that  of  the  pastor, 
unless  it  is  associated  with  that  of  the 
pastor.  The  church  stands  for  economy 
in  the  use  of  means.  It  prevents  waste. 
It  makes  preaching  fruitful.  And  the 
effect  of  this  function  of  the  church  upon 
the  preacher  is  encouraging  in  the  highest 
degree.  No  one  can  be  indifferent  to  re- 
sults. The  secret  grief  at  the  heart  of 
many  a  minister  is  the  apparent  absence 
of  any  adequate  result  of  his  preaching. 
While  he  is  in  the  act  of  presenting  truth, 
when  mind  and  heart  are  aglow,  he  enters 
into  the  joy  of  his  calling.  But  as  the 
years  of  his  ministry  go  by  without  the 
return  to  him  in  changed  lives,  in  an  en- 
larged church,  in  results  which  are  definite 


AND   THE   CHURCH  183 

and  tangible,  his  heart  begins  to  fail  and 
grow  weary.  I  have  known  preachers  to 
be  saved  to  themselves  and  to  their 
churches  by  the  efforts  of  some  quiet, 
patient  workers  in  the  church  who  have 
known  how  to  gather  the  fruitage  of  the 
pulpit.  They  have  given  the  preacher  the 
one  advantage,  without  which  his  ministry 
must  have  steadily  declined  into  a  failure. 
With  it  he  has  risen  to  his  task  in  the 
courage  of  spiritual  success. 

And  now  add  to  these  advantages  the 
sense  of  permanency  which  the  church 
helps  to  give,  and  you  see  how  large  is  its 
ministry  to  the  preacher.  A  great  many 
things  tend  to  give  the  preacher  the  sense 
of  change,  uncertainty,  and  even  of  inse- 
curity in  his  work.  Men  come  and  go. 
Sometimes  the  fortune  of  a  particular 
church  seems  to  be  bound  up  in  a  given 
generation.  Churches  lose  their  position 
or  character.  The  preacher  himself  is  sel- 
dom a  permanent  force  in  any  one  com- 
munity. All  the  outward  conditions  are 
away  from  the  permanent.  Yet  the  real 
significance  of  his  work  is  permanence. 
How  shall  he  realize  this  fact  ?     He  may 


i84  THE   PULPIT 

live  as  the  patriarchs  lived.  Abraham 
dwelt  in  tents  with  Isaac  and  Jacob,  but 
he  looked  for  a  city  which  hath  founda- 
tions. The  preacher  has  the  outlook  of 
faith  open  to  him.  That  gives  the  last 
satisfaction.  It  is  the  realization  of  eter- 
nity underneath  time,  the  realization,  as 
Carlyle  says,  that  "  time  in  every  meanest 
moment  of  it  rests  upon  eternity."  But 
this  is  the  common  privilege  of  faith. 
The  preacher  has  no  more  claim  to  it 
than  any  other  believer.  What  is  his 
hold  upon  the  permanent,  as  we  count 
permanence  on  earth  ?  The  church  is  an 
institution.  The  ministry  is  a  succession. 
The  preacher  has  his  fellowship  without 
limit  of  time.  How  near  the  great  souls 
of  the  church  of  long  ago  are  to  us.  How 
easy  it  is  for  us  to  establish  the  intimacy 
of  personal  friendship  with  them.  How 
hospitable  they  are,  how  catholic,  how  sin- 
cere. They  live  and  their  work  lives. 
Measured  by  earthly  standards  the  church 
lasts. 

"  Oh,  where  are  kings  and  empires  now, 
Of  old  that  went  and  came  ? 
But,  Lord,  thy  church  is  praying  yet, 
A  thousand  years  the  same." 


AND   THE  CHURCH  185 

I  think  that  we  fail  to  inhabit  the  church 
at  large  as  we  ought.  Our  particular  com- 
munion is  small,  it  is  a  part,  a  small  part, 
but  a  part  implies  the  whole,  a  small  part 
as  much  as  a  great  part.  In  my  Father's 
house,  said  Christ,  are  many  mansions. 
Why  should  we  not  take  the  freedom  of 
them  here  ?  And  especially  in  respect  to 
time.  What  age  of  the  church  is  closed 
against  us  ?  Where  should  we  be  unwel- 
come now,  whatever  might  have  been  our 
fortune  then.?  Who  shall  forbid  to  any  one 
of  us  his  sense  of  permanency  in  the  church, 
according  to  the  place  he  may  make  for 
himself  in  the  unfailing  succession  ? 

It  would  be  easy  to  enter  into  the  long 
enumeration  of  the  advantages  of  the 
church  to  the  preacher,  if  he  will  but  re- 
cognize them.  But  all  that  I  have  wished 
to  do  is  to  turn  your  thoughts  that  way. 
I  have  wanted  to  help  you  to  see  that  the 
church  is  carrying  on  a  wide  and  generous 
ministry  in  your  behalf.  Some  of  its  min- 
istries I  have  suggested.  Nothing  more 
than  the  suggestion  of  them  is  necessary, 
if  it  shall  succeed  in  making  you  apprecia- 
tive of  what  the  church  is  capable  of  doing 


i86  THE   PULPIT 

and  will  do  for  the  ministry,  if  its  ofHces 
are  recognized  and  accepted. 

What  now  shall  we  say  is  the  relation  of 
the  pulpit  to  the  church  ?  What  are  the 
preacher's  obligations  ?  How  shall  he  use 
his  advantage  honestly,  generously,  and  to 
his  own  upbuilding  ?  My  first  answer  is 
that  the  preacher  should  work  from  within 
the  church.  Let  him  not  take  an  outside 
position,  nor  one  as  near  the  edge  as  pos- 
sible, but  let  him  establish  himself  within, 
firmly  and  securely,  and  then  work  from 
within  out. 

This  statement  is  so  general  that  it  raises 
questions  of  its  own.  How  far  is  the  posi- 
tion of  the  preacher  representative  and  how 
far  is  it  personal  ?  Is  he  bound  to  utter 
the  formulae  of  the  church,  or  does  he  have 
the  freedom  of  Christianity?  And  if  he 
insists  upon  his  freedom  does  he  forfeit  his 
place  in  the  church  ?  I  suppose  that  by 
common  consent  the  preacher  is  the  freest 
man  in  the  service  of  the  church.  He  is 
given,  for  necessary  and  evident  reasons, 
the  largest  use  of  his  personality.  The 
church  is  always  ready  to  allow  the  exercise 
of  liberty,  when  it  seems  to  be  an  indispen- 


AND   THE   CHURCH  187 

sable  part  of  the  preacher's  apprehension 
of  the  gospel.  Probably  no  one  is  judged 
so  fairly,  by  the  whole  scope  and  aim  of 
his  work,  as  the  preacher.  But  when  the 
preacher  rests  his  contention  for  liberty 
upon  some  one  point,  a  point  now  of  doc- 
trine rather  than  of  personal  enlargement, 
then  he  makes  the  contention  for  others  as 
well  as  for  himself.  At  least,  if  the  point 
is  of  sufficient  importance  to  really  contend 
for  in  the  name  of  freedom,  it  ought  to  be 
sufficient  to  contend  for  in  the  interest  of 
truth.  If  again  the  truth  which  the  church 
holds  seems  to  him  to  need  a  large  inter- 
pretation, I  think  that  he  ought  to  try  to 
make  room  for  it  in  the  church.  The  lib- 
erty of  being  allowed  to  stretch  one's  self 
a  little  further,  of  being  a  little  freer  than 
others,  is,  after  all,  a  small  notion  of  lib- 
erty. Real  liberty  consists  in  making  the 
church  roomy  enough  for  all  men  who  want 
to  hold  the  interpretation  of  the  truth  in 
question.  That  is  something  worth  con- 
tending for.  To  give  a  broad  truth  stand- 
ing, that  makes  all  men  free.  To  make 
one  man  free,  and  leave  the  truth  in  bond- 
age, that  leaves  other  men  bound. 


i88  THE   PULPIT 

I  believe,  therefore,  that  if  a  preacher 
wants  a  liberty  beyond  that  which  is 
usually  conceded  to  the  use  of  one's  per- 
sonality, he  ought  first  to  ask  whether 
other  men  ought  to  have  it,  whether  it 
inheres  in  the  truth  itself,  and  if  so,  then 
to  try  to  make  room  for  it  in  the  church. 
I  have  little  respect  for  mere  assertion  and 
boisterous  independence.  I  have  great  re- 
spect for  the  serious  and  responsible  en- 
deavor for  freedom.  And  there  is  no  loy- 
alty to  the  church,  of  which  I  am  aware, 
which  compels  a  man  who  feels  the  need, 
for  himself,  and  for  others,  and  for  the  truth, 
of  more  room  and  a  larger  freedom  to  go 
outside  to  get  it.  It  is  time  enough  to 
go  out  when  it  is  proven  that  there  is  not 
sufBcient  room  within. 

But  suppose  the  question  includes  the 
conduct  of  a  given  church  rather  than  the 
faith  of  the  church  of  which  it  is  a  part. 
Suppose  a  church  stands  before  a  commu- 
nity charged  with  inconsistency.  Its  spir- 
itual life  is  too  low  to  impress  the  commu- 
nity, or  its  moral  life  is  such  as  to  leave  it 
without  influence.  I  do  not  refer  now  to 
cases   of  personal  discipline,  which  must 


AND   THE   CHURCH  189 

always  be  judged  by  themselves.  I  refer 
altogether  to  the  moral  or  spiritual  condi- 
tion of  a  church  which  makes  it  powerless 
for  good.  It  is  worldly,  it  is  frivolous,  it  is 
niggardly,  it  is  out  of  favor  with  the  com- 
munity, and  rightly  so.  What  shall  the 
preacher  do?  Shall  he  work  on  the  outside 
the  church,  as  far  as  possible  independent 
of  it,  or  shall  he  still  work  from  it,  taking 
his  position  within  ?  Certainly  the  latter. 
Let  him  enter  all  the  more  closely  into  its 
life.  Let  him  lavish  upon  it  all  the  wealth 
of  his  affection.  Let  him  not  play  the 
Pharisee  before  the  people  at  large,  and 
draw  attention  to  his  own  superior  breadth, 
or  charity,  or  earnestness.  Let  him  give 
himself  to  the  task  of  making  the  church 
broader,  more  charitable,  more  earnest, 
more  human.  Let  him  bring  the  best  life 
of  the  church  to  the  front;  let  him  encour- 
age, stimulate,  and  inspire.  That  must  be 
a  dead  church  which  will  not  revive  under 
such  treatment.  When  it  has  been  re- 
vived, the  preacher  holds  its  power  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand.  The  true  philosophy 
of  the  relation  of  the  pulpit  to  the  church 
is  that  of  power  from  within.    The  preacher 


I90  THE   PULPIT 

who  has  not  first  made  his  place  strong 
and  secure,  who  has  not  made  himself  a 
vital  force  within,  has  not  established  the 
relation  of  the  pulpit  to  the  church. 

Next  to  the  obligation  of  the  preacher  to 
work  from  the  church,  that  is,  from  within, 
I  put  the  obligation  to  work  through  the 
church.  A  great  many  churches  are  will- 
ing to  let  the  preacher  work  for  them. 
They  offer  him,  that  is,  not  only  as  their 
representative,  but  as  their  substitute.  That 
is  not  to  be  allowed.  If  the  preacher  will 
avail  himself  of  the  instinct  of  helpfulness, 
he  can  readily  get  people  enough  to  work 
with  him.  They  will  not  always  work 
under  him  if  the  authority  is  too  manifest, 
but  they  will  work  with  him.  What  matters 
it,  so  that  they  work,  and  he  works  through 
them  ?  It  is  too  much  to  expect  that  all 
preachers  will  be  good  organizers.  Organ- 
ization is  of  advantage,  but  there  may  be 
too  much  of  it.  Machinery  in  a  church 
is  not  a  certain  sign  of  strength.  Some 
churches  are  more  cumbered  by  it  than  a 
knight  in  mediaeval  armor.  The  secret  of 
pastoral  success  on  the  executive  side  is 
the   ability  to  secure  cooperation.      This 


AND  THE   CHURCH  191 

implies  first  a  policy.  A  church  must  know 
what  it  stands  for,  what  it  is  expected  to 
do.  The  policy  must  be  made  clear,  and 
definite,  and  commanding.  It  must  be  a 
sufficient  policy.  A  church  must  not  be 
asked  to  do  less  than  it  is  capable  of  doing. 
Nothing  is  so  belittling  as  a  weak,  or  small, 
or  uninspiring  policy.  Ask  for  large  things 
and  expect  them.  And  keep  on  asking  and 
expecting,  till  you  get  them.  Educate  your 
people  out  of  littleness,  as  you  would  out 
of  meanness. 

A  good  policy  will  gain  the  support  of 
good  people.  That  is  pretty  sure  to  follow. 
Men  and  women  will  lend  themselves  to 
the  duty  which  is  attractive  because  it  is 
satisfying.  They  will  try  to  do  it.  Trust 
them  in  their  endeavors.  Distrust  on  your 
part  is  worse  than  blunders  on  their  part. 
Remember  that  you  had  to  learn  to  preach. 
It  was  not  second  nature.  For  two  or  three 
years  it  may  have  been  an  open  problem 
whether  the  man  would  conquer  the  ser- 
mon, or  the  sermon  would  kill  the  man. 
It  is  not  always  easy  for  a  man  who  is 
greatly  gifted  in  public  speech  to  speak  in 
a  social  meeting  or  to  pray.    It  may  be  still 


192  THE   PULPIT 

harder  for  him  to  say  the  personal  word  to 
his  neighbor.  It  is  not  easy  for  some  men 
to  give,  not  so  easy  for  those  who  have 
money  as  for  those  who  have  n't  it.  Be 
patient.  It  may  not  be  easy  for  some  men 
to  stand  as  moral  reformers.  Not  all  men 
are  brave.  Be  patient  still.  Courage,  like 
everything  else,  grows  by  success.  It  is 
easier  to  stand,  when  one  has  once  seen 
that  it  has  done  some  good  to  stand  for 
the  right. 

And  not  only  have  a  sufficient  policy, 
and  show  a  sufficient  trust  in  men,  but  take 
to  yourselves  the  joy  of  companionship  in 
service.  Respect  those  who  labor  with 
you.  Encourage  them  by  your  personal 
as  well  as  by  your  official  regard.  Respect 
them  according  to  their  gifts.  And  rejoice 
in  any  discovery  of  Christian  talent,  as  you 
would  rejoice  in  personal  wealth.  Some 
persons  may  become  representative  of  the 
church  in  larger  ways  of  service  than  in 
those  which  the  local  church  has  to  offer. 
Do  not  be  jealous  of  their  outside  activity 
or  influence.  Let  them  understand  that 
they  are  doing  the  w^ork  of  the  church  in 
the  best  possible  way.     The  only  way  in 


AND   THE   CHURCH  193 

which  the  church  can  deal  with  many  ques- 
tions, and  many  interests,  is  through  its 
representative  men.  You  cannot  make  a 
church  support  one  party,  or  one  poHcy,  in 
a  community.  There  are  Hmits  to  con- 
certed action,  chief  of  which  is  the  indi- 
vidual liberty  of  opinion  and  of  conscience. 
But  you  can  count  as  a  continual  power 
in  the  church  any  noble-minded  man  who 
rises  to  the  demands  of  public  duty. 

And  one  more  obligation  of  the  pulpit  to 
the  church  is  that  the  preacher  shall  work 
to  it.  From  it,  in  acknowledgment  of  its 
position  ;  through  it,  in  acknowledgment 
of  its  available  power ;  to  it,  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  its  right  to  its  own  increase.  The 
church  is  entitled  to  the  earnings  of  the 
ministry.  And  the  larger  the  earnings 
the  more  the  church  is  entitled  to  them. 
A  small  increase  might  come  about  from 
other  incentives.  A  large  and  steady  in- 
crease can  come  only  from  and  through  the 
church.  And  yet  one  obligation  which  the 
preacher  owes  the  church  is  to  see  to  it  that 
the  church  does  not  narrow  its  doors.  The 
church  is  for  the  world,  not  the  world  for 
the  church.     It  is  hard  to  maintain  this 


194  THE   PULPIT 

principle  under  all  conditions.  Churches, 
like  corporations,  like  individuals,  grow 
selfish.  Success  is  apt  to  develop  satisfac- 
tion. Struggle  is  apt  to  develop  narrow- 
ness. The  preacher  out  of  love  to  the 
church  must  see  to  it  that  it  is  set  wide 
toward  humanity.  This  does  not  mean 
that  it  has  no  tests  of  membership,  no 
standards  of  character,  no  confession  of 
faith.  Open  the  church  that  way,  and 
you  make  it  no  object  for  men  to  enter. 
You  must  make  the  motive  to  enter  the 
church  as  deep  as  you  make  the  entrance 
broad. 

There  is  one  difficulty  in  our  American 
church  life  which  no  one  has  as  yet  told 
us  how  to  solve.  It  comes  from  our  demo- 
cracy. Democracy  demands  that  the  church 
shall  acknowledge  no  distinctions  of  class. 
The  only  answer  which  we  make  to  this 
demand  is  to  organize  churches  on  social 
lines.  Watch  the  changes  in  a  great  city. 
The  moment  a  church  loses  caste  it  begins 
to  be  unpopular.  Those  of  a  given  social 
standing  leave  the  community  and  so  the 
church,  and  those  of  another  social  stand- 
ing do  not  seem  to  care  to  come  in  to  take 


AND   THE   CHURCH  195 

what  IS  left.  I  can  see  no  way  of  meeting 
the  issue  except  by  developing  such  a  love 
and  loyalty  and  reverence  for  the  church 
as  will  allow  us  to  overcome  even  changes 
of  locality.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  stronger 
the  church  feeling  is,  the  more  democratic 
in  reality  the  church  is.  An  Episcopal 
church  will  usually  stay  longer  down  town 
than  a  Congregational  or  Presbyterian 
church. 

I  think  that  we  must  come  to  a  deeper 
love  for  the  church,  if  we  are  to  make  it 
answer  its  larger  and  more  generous  pur- 
pose toward  men.  For  this  reason  I  value 
all  attachments  to  a  local  church.  I  am 
not  so  anxious  as  many  are  to  see  the  rolls 
of  an  old  church  kept  clean  to  the  exact 
resident  membership.  A  man  has  a  right 
in  the  church  of  his  father,  and  of  his 
father's  father.  Spiritual  ancestry  counts 
for  something.  The  old  spiritual  home- 
steads are  sacred.  Let  us  cherish  them. 
Let  us  keep  the  identity  of  the  best  souls 
with  them. 

Why  should  not  the  churches  bear  the 
name  of  the  saints,  —  our  churches  bear 
the  names  of   our   saints  ?     What   is  the 


196  THE   PULPIT 

church,  in  one  of  its  most  glorious  aspects, 
but  the  succession  of  steadfast,  loyal,  be- 
lieving, sacrificing,  conquering  souls.  I 
put  the  eleventh  of  Hebrews  beside  the 
Nicene  Creed  or  the  Westminster  Confes- 
sion. I  put  the  roll  of  God's  elect  at  any- 
time beside  "  the  form  of  sound  words " 
in  which  they  utter  their  beliefs.  The 
greater  souls  of  all  generations,  —  they 
are  the  living  church.  They  maintain  the 
succession.  They  ennoble  and  enlarge 
the  spiritual  kinship.  They  fix  the  stan- 
dards of  faith  and  life.  They  live  on  from 
age  to  age  to  shame  the  selfish,  the  unbe- 
lieving, the  faint  of  heart ;  to  show  willing 
souls  how  to  serve,  to  challenge  brave  men 
to  meet  the  possibilities  of  life  and  death. 
Let  their  names  stand,  to  be  known  and 
read  of  all  men,  a  reminder  and  an  ex- 
ample of  "the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints." 

There  are  many  things  which  I  might 
have  said  of  the  relation  of  the  pulpit  to 
the  church ;  the  field  is  very  wide.  What 
I  have  said  has  been  with  the  intent  of 
turning  your  thoughts  towards  your  in- 
debtedness.    If  you  succeed  as  preachers, 


AND   THE   CHURCH  197 

one  large  factor  in  your  success  will  be  the 
acknowledged  ministry  of  the  church.  If 
you  fail,  one  reason  of  your  failure  will  be 
the  neglect  of  its  strong,  kind,  and  patient 
ministry. 


VIII 

THE    OPTIMISM    OF   CHRISTIANITY 

I  AM  conscious,  as  I  bring  this  course 
of  lectures  to  a  close,  how  inadequate  has 
been  my  presentation  of  those  more  vital 
aspects  of  preaching,  which  I  have  been 
trying  to  set  forth.  That  preaching  is  a 
vital  process  from  first  to  last  I  am  ab- 
solutely sure.  There  lies  its  power,  and 
there  lies  its  weakness.  Preaching  rises 
and  falls  with  the  preacher.  It  is  sensitive 
even  to  his  moods.  It  is  dependent  upon 
the  steadiness  of  his  intellectual  discipline, 
upon  the  nobility  of  his  ambitions,  upon 
the  growing  susceptibility  of  his  nature  to 
the  highest  inspirations.  And  yet  we  do 
not  make  sufficient  account,  I  think,  of 
this  vital  element  in  preaching,  nor  ap- 
prise the  preacher  sufficiently  of  the  im- 
mense issues  which  are  involved  in  the 
development  of  his  personality.  The 
preacher   does    not   ask    enough    of   him- 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY       199 

self,  neither  does  society  ask  enough  of 
him.  We  want  good  preaching  and  Hke 
it,  but  we  do  not  expect  it,  as  we  ought. 
As  Pascal  says,  "  We  go  to  our  library  and 
take  down  a  book,  expecting  to  find  an 
author,  and  lo,  to  our  joy,  we  find  a  man." 
We  go  to  church  expecting  to  hear  a  ser- 
mon, and  lo,  to  our  joy,  it  may  be,  we  hear 
a  preacher.  The  attitude  of  men  toward 
the  pulpit  is  expressed  in  the  hope  of  dis- 
covery rather  than  in  the  confidence  of  ex- 
pectation. Public  sentiment  at  this  point 
needs  to  be  changed.  Not  that  anything 
has  come  in  to  take  the  place  of  preaching 
in  the  public  mind.  There  has  been  dur- 
ing the  past  decade  a  revival  of  the  spirit 
of  worship  in  the  non-liturgical  churches. 
It  was  greatly  needed.  The  result  has 
been  much  experimentation,  but  with  It  a 
large  and  positive  enrichment  of  public 
worship.  The  spiritual  life  of  the  church 
has  been  quickened.  There  had  been  an 
earlier  revival  of  Biblical  study.  The 
Scriptures  have  been  searched  as  at  no 
previous  time  in  the  history  of  the  church. 
The  spiritual  life  of  the  church  has  been 
quickened   by   this   also.     But   preaching 


200       OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

has  not  been  rendered  less  necessary  be- 
cause of  the  increase  of  worship  or  of 
Biblical  knowledge.  These  new  influences 
have  properly  reduced  the  time  of  the  ser- 
mon, but  they  have  greatly  ministered  to 
its  power.  There  is  no  religious  any 
more  than  there  is  any  secular  substitute 
for  preaching.  It  is  the  vernacular  of  the 
gospel.  The  language  of  creed  or  chant 
can  never  express  the  glad  tidings  as  one 
man  can  tell  them  to  another.  Preaching, 
we  say,  is  the  soul  of  Protestantism ;  but 
why  the  soul  of  Protestantism  unless  it  is 
equally  the  soul  of  Christianity }  Let  us 
not  draw  our  inspiration  for  preaching  from 
anything  that  is  intermediate  or  formal.  I 
like  to  go  back  in  my  search  for  first  things 
to  the  saying  of  an  old  teacher  in  the  sem- 
inary. "  I  teach,"  he  said,  "  that  Congrega- 
tionalism is  a  passing  form  of  Puritanism  ; 
that  Puritanism  is  a  passing  form  of  Pro- 
testantism ;  that  Protestantism  is  a  passing 
form  of  Christianity." 

Back  in  the  heart  of  the  everlasting  gos- 
pel lies  the  necessity  and  the  guarantee 
of  preaching.  And  particularly  because 
Christianity  can  get  no  adequate  expression 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY      201 

except  through  preaching.  It  cannot  com- 
municate itself,  its  spirit,  its  tone,  its  de- 
sires, its  certainties  in  any  other  way.  Its 
incentives  call  for  the  preacher.  They  are 
made  to  stir  him.  For  Christianity  is  the 
revelation  of  a  great  hope  as  well  as  of  a 
great  love.  There  is  the  secret  of  its  power. 
Men  are  saved  by  hope.  Love  that  did  not 
issue  in  hope  would  be  a  futile  and  pathetic 
love. 

In  this  last  lecture  I  want  to  try  to  make 
clear  to  you  how  much  of  the  power  of 
preaching  lies  hidden  in  the  optimism  of 
Christianity. 

Whatever  incentives  may  come  to  the 
preacher  from  any  of  the  causes  to  which  I 
have  referred  from  time  to  time,  nothing 
comes  to  him  so  fresh  and  quick  from  the 
heart  of  Christianity  as  this  incentive  of 
the  great  and  sure  hope.  And  Christianity 
is,  I  believe,  returning  to  its  early  opti- 
mism. There  have  been  times  in  the  his- 
tory of  Christianity  of  sad  depression,  times 
when  Christianity  was  not  itself.  There 
have  been  times  when  Christianity  lived 
upon  borrowed  strength  quite  as  much  as 
upon  its  own.     Its  doctrines  were  not  dis- 


202        OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

tinctive.  Its  language  was  not  that  of  the 
New  Testament.  Its  tone  was  not  true  to 
the  life  of  Jesus.  And  there  have  been 
times  when  Christianity  has  been  over- 
shadowed by  some  prevailing  doubt,  pass- 
ing under  the  eclipse  of  faith.  Christianity 
has  at  such  times  remained  true  to  itself, 
but  it  has  not  been  able  to  communicate 
its  spirit  to  the  heart  of  the  world.  Men 
have  not  wanted  to  disbelieve,  they  have 
simply  not  been  able  to  believe. 

I  think  that  no  poet  has  caught  so  truly 
this  spirit  of  unwilling  doubt  as  Matthew 
Arnold.     Listen  to  his  lament :  — 

"  Oh,  had  I  lived  in  that  great  day 
How  had  its  glory  new 
Filled  earth  and  heaven,  and  caught  away 
My  ravished  spirit  too. 

"  No  thoughts  that  to  the  world  belong 
Had  stood  against  the  wave 
Of  love,  which  set  so  fresh  and  strong 
From  Christ's  then  open  grave. 

"  While  we  believed,  on  earth  he  went. 
And  open  stood  his  grave : 
Men  called  from  chamber,  church,  and  tent, 
And  Christ  was  by  to  save. 

"  Now  he  is  dead !     Far  hence  he  lies 
In  the  lone  Syrian  town, 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY      203 

And  on  his  grave,  with  shining  eyes, 
The  Syrian  stars  look  down." 

The  religious  life  of  the  past  generation 
has  found  a  true,  because  contradictory, 
expression  in  Tennyson  and  Matthew  Ar- 
nold. Tennyson  has  given  expression  to 
the  strong  and  irresistible,  but  undefined 
hope  which  has  held  its  place  in  our  hearts; 
Matthew  Arnold  has  given  equal  expres- 
sion to  the  widespread,  unwilling,  pathetic 
doubt  which  has  found  its  way  at  times 
within.  We  have  been  strangely  confused 
in  feeling  by  these  alternating  moods  and 
experiences.  Now  it  has  seemed  as  if  Ten- 
nyson's hope  was  the  incoming  tide  of  faith; 
and  now  it  has  seemed  as  if  Matthew  Ar- 
nold's doubt  was  the  undertow  which  was 
sweeping  us  out  again  to  sea.  There  are 
signs,  I  believe,  that  the  confusion  is  pass- 
ing away.  We  are  beginning  to  come  out 
into  the  calm  assurances  of  Christianity. 
The  hope  which  greets  us  is  not  the  out- 
come of  sentiment.  It  is  not  a  reaction 
from  past  uncertainty  and  doubt.  It  has 
its  own  reasons,  some  of  which  I  will  bring 
before  you,  as  I  view  the  present  religious 
experience  and  faith. 


204       OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

The  tone  of  Christianity  is  determined 
primarily  by  the  thought  of  God.  What- 
ever the  prevailing  thought  of  God  is,  that, 
more  than  all  things  else,  makes  Christian- 
ity what  it  is  in  sentiment  and  expression. 
No  one  can  fail  to  see  that  the  theological 
discussions  of  the  past  years,  except  those 
on  purely  critical  questions,  have  had  to  do 
with  the  nature  and  disposition  of  God,  and 
with  the  methods  of  his  working.  As  the 
result  of  these  discussions  some  things  are 
beginning  to  be  clear. 

It  is  beginning  to  be  clear,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  that  we  did  not  say  the  final  word  when 
we  declared  the  change  in  theology  from 
the  conception  of  sovereignty  to  the  con- 
ception of  fatherhood.  I  do  not  know  that 
we  could  have  secured  certain  necessary 
results  in  any  other  way,  but  the  result  we 
did  secure  was  not  altogether  complete  and 
satisfying.  The  fatherhood  of  God  was  a 
satisfying  conception  of  the  personal  rela- 
tion of  the  human  soul  to  God,  especially 
as  interpreted  through  the  sonship  of  Jesus. 
I  recall  the  assurance  which  came  to  my 
own  thought  when  I  read  the  confession 
of  faith  of  Richard  Hutton,  of  the  London 


OPTIMISM    OF   CHRISTIANITY       205 

"Spectator,"  as  he  passed  over  from  Uni- 
tarianism  into  the  Church  of  England, 
given  in  his  treatise  on  "The  Incarnation 
and  Principles  of  Evidence." 

God,  he  said  in  substance,  is  our  Father 
because  he  is  eternally  the  Father.  That 
is  guaranteed  by  the  sonship  of  Christ. 
No  new  relation  is  created  to  meet  the 
need  of  men.  It  is  the  same  principle  at 
work  toward  men  in  turn  which  had  al- 
ways been  in  the  heart  of  God,  which  had 
its  satisfaction  in  the  eternal  love  of  the 
Father  and  of  the  Son.  Nothing  could 
be  more  satisfying  than  that  statement. 
Within  the  limits  of  its  application  the 
thought  was  complete. 

But  I  really  think  that  none  of  us  have 
been  satisfied  altogether  with  the  popular 
presentation  of  the  thought  of  the  father- 
hood of  God,  as  it  has  been  applied  to  all 
the  relations  of  God  to  men  and  to  the 
universe.  Whatever  we  might  put  into  it, 
and  say  belonged  there  by  right,  others 
would  ignore,  and  thus  leave  the  concep- 
tion incomplete  and  insufficient  for  the 
satisfaction  of  truth.  I  think  that  we  have 
felt  the  need  of  a  larger  sense  of  power 


2o6        OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

and  determination  in  the  attitude  of  God 
to  men,  greater  even  than  could  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  thought  of  sacrifice.  And 
so  I  welcome,  not  the  return  of  thought 
from  fatherhood  to  sovereignty,  but  the 
advance  of  sovereignty  into  fatherhood, 
the  incorporation,  the  absorption,  if  you 
will,  of  fatherhood  into  sovereignty,  to  give 
it  character,  and  disposition,  and  direction. 
What  we  want  to  know  in  order  to  satisfy 
the  optimism  of  Christianity  is,  not  simply 
that  God  loves  us,  but  that  God  is  for  us. 
We  want  sovereignty  relieved  of  all  doubt 
about  its  disposition  and  action.  The  idea 
of  the  fatherhood  of  God  gave  us  that 
relief.  It  set  sovereignty  free  from  all  lim- 
itations, free  from  an  arbitrary  election,  and 
limited  atonement,  and  a  restricted  provi- 
dence. It  left  it  "  the  power  of  God  unto 
salvation  unto  every  one  that  believeth." 
Now  we  can  read  the  eighth  of  Romans, 
and  rejoice  in  it.  We  can  read  it  aloud, 
everywhere,  to  all  men.  We  can  read  it 
beside  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son. 

And  with  the  advance  in  the  concep- 
tion of  God,  the  conception  of  his  love 
reinforced  by  power,  we  have  a  correspond- 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY       207 

ing  advance  in  the  conception  of  the  work 
of  Christ.  Here  again,  I  think,  we  have 
felt  that  there  has  been  an  insufficient  use 
made  of  the  power  of  Christ.  His  human- 
ity has  been  brought  to  the  front  in  every 
form  of  promise  and  incentive.  It  has 
been  an  infinite  reHef  to  turn  from  dis- 
putations about  his  work,  about  his  atone- 
ment even,  to  the  real  Jesus  as  he  lived, 
and  taught,  and  worked,  and  suffered,  and 
died.  But  in  all  our  uses  of  the  humanity 
of  Jesus,  we  have  not  been  able  to  fathom 
the  meaning  of  his  sacrifice  or  of  the  law 
of  sacrifice  which  he  laid  down.  Aid  has 
come  to  us  from  an  unexpected  source. 
The  incoming  of  the  theory  of  evolution 
has  done  more,  I  believe,  than  all  else  to 
develop  and  solemnize  the  thinking  of  our 
times.  For  it  has  been  a  revelation  or  ex- 
posure of  the  suffering,  the  unconscious 
sacrifice,  going  on  in  all  the  orders  and 
ranks  of  life  leading  up  to  man.  And 
surely,  though  almost  imperceptibly,  it  has 
been  at  work  to  change  our  conception  of 
human  life.  It  has  overthrown  our  easy 
settlements  of  questions  of  human  rights 
and  human  obligations.    Take  its  influence 


2o8        OPTIMISM   OF  CHRISTIANITY 

upon  the  thought  of  man  in  his  poHtical 
relations.     I  quote  from  Professor  Royce  : 

"  The  dignity  of  human  nature  under 
the  old  science  lay  in  its  permanence. 
Because  of  such  permanence  one  could 
prove  all  men  to  be  naturally  equal,  and 
our  own  Declaration  of  Independence  is 
thus  founded  upon  speculative  principles, 
that,  as  they  were  then  stated,  have  been 
rendered  meaningless  by  the  modern  doc- 
trine of  evolution.  Valuable  indeed,"  he 
goes  on  to  say,  "  was  all  this  unhistorical 
analysis  of  the  world  and  of  man,  valuable 
as  a  preparation  for  the  coming  insight ; 
but  how  unvital,  how  unspiritual,  how 
crude  seems  now  all  that  eighteenth  cen- 
tury conception  of  the  mathematically  per- 
manent, the  essentially  unprogressive  and 
stagnant  human  nature  in  the  empty  dig- 
nity of  its  inborn  rights,  when  compared 
with  our  modern  conception  of  the  grow- 
ing, struggling,  historically  continuous  hu- 
manity, whose  rights  are  nothing  until  it 
wins  them  in  the  tragic  process  of  civiliza- 
tion." 

We  are  at  last  beginning  to  have  a  view 
of  the  place  which  sacrifice  holds  in  the 


OPTIMISM  OF   CHRISTIANITY      209 

development  of  nature,  in  the  order  of  so- 
ciety, and  therefore  in  the  saving  of  man. 
We  see  in  a  new  light  the  meaning  of  the 
great  iterations  of  Jesus  about  the  neces- 
sity of  sacrifice,  —  words  which  he  applied 
sometimes  to  himself,  sometimes  to  all 
men.  Above  all,  we  see  the  necessity 
which  lay  upon  him  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end,  from  his  temptation  to  his 
cross,  to  ratify  this  law.  We  see  how  the 
hope  of  the  race  was  bound  up  in  his  un- 
swerving loyalty  to  the  principle,  in  that 
unfaltering  courage  which  led  him  up  to 
Jerusalem,  in  full  view  of  the  end.  As 
the  method  of  Jesus  comes  out  more 
clearly  before  the  eyes  of  this  generation, 
we  are  enabled  to  mark  its  place  in  the  law 
of  the  universe,  and  also  to  see  how  weak 
and  inconsistent  any  other  method  would 
have  been,  and  therefore  to  realize  how 
great  and  sure  is  our  hope  of  its  success  in 
the  spiritual  salvation  of  the  world. 

And  in  like  manner  there  has  come  to 
us  a  clearer  understanding  of  the  power  of 
the  spirit  of  God  in  the  world,  as  manifest 
in  the  continuity  of  God's  working.  We 
have  been  led,  perhaps  I  may  say  forced, 


210       OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

to  recognize  the  universality  of  the  work 
of  the  spirit  of  God,  its  work  in  all  times 
and  all  places.  We  have  been  reading 
history  not  only  with  a  larger  intelligence, 
but  with  a  broader  faith  and  a  wider  spirit- 
ual vision.  Great  spaces  in  history,  whole 
ages,  that  were  blanks  have  been  filled  in 
with  God's  plans  and  with  his  presence. 
And  although  we  have  not  been  able  to 
apportion  all  things  aright,  we  have  been 
able  to  see,  if  not  compelled  to  believe  in, 
the  continuity  of  God's  working.  Doubt- 
less we  have  not  yet  gained  the  full  per- 
spective. The  mystery  of  the  world  is  not 
solved.  What  we  call  providence  does  not 
always  take  the  course  to  be  expected,  or 
even,  as  we  thought,  to  be  desired.  The 
Christian  believer  may  still  cry  out  with 
Lessing,  "  Go  Thine  inscrutable  way,  Eter- 
nal Providence.  Only  let  me  not  despair 
of  Thee  because  of  Thine  inscrutableness. 
Let  me  not  despair  in  Thee  even  if  Thy 
steps  appear  to  me  to  be  going  back. 
Thou  hast  on  Thine  Eternal  way  so  much 
to  carry  on  together !  so  much  to  do  !  so 
many  side  steps  to  take !  " 

And  yet  some  things  are  plain  and  sure. 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY      211 

The  great  plan  itself  is  growing  plain  and 
sure,  and  more  glorious  to  the  Christian 
intelligence  and  faith.  It  is  becoming 
more  evident  that  there  is  a  divine  order 
in  the  world.  And  the  tone  of  Christian- 
ity is  changing  with  the  larger  and  clearer 
apprehension  of  the  fact.  This  is  the  first 
reason  which  justifies  the  present  optimism 
of  Christianity.  It  has  its  rational  support 
and  incentive  in  the  conception  of  sover- 
eignty as  directed  and  applied  by  the  hand 
of  love,  of  sacrifice  as  the  law  of  the  uni- 
verse, of  the  divine  order,  as  seen  in  the 
continuity  of  God's  working. 

But  Christianity  takes  its  tone  also  at  a 
given  time  from  the  particular  truth  or 
doctrine  upon  which  stress  at  the  time  is 
laid.  The  incoming  truth  of  to-day  brings 
in  with  it,  perhaps  above  all  other  distinc- 
tive Christian  doctrines  with  the  exception 
of  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  the  element 
of  hopefulness.  It  is  the  truth  of  the 
kingdom  of  God,  the  kingdom  of  God  on 
earth.  I  refer  now  to  the  doctrine,  not  to 
the  fact.  The  incentive  to  hope  always 
lies  in  the  truth,  more  than  by  any  possi- 
bility it  can  ever  lie  in  the  fact.     It  is  the 


212        OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

ideal  which  stirs  us  to  faith.  We  keep 
our  eye  on  the  goal,  even  though  it  be,  as 
has  been  said,  a  flying  goal. 

The  truth  of  the  kingdom  of  God  has 
always  existed.  It  has  been  an  insepara- 
ble part  of  Christianity.  Jesus  preached  it. 
He  made  it  central  in  his  preaching.  But 
it  has  never  had  the  separateness  and  dis- 
tinctness of  a  doctrine.  It  has  never  found 
its  way  into  our  articles  of  faith  in  any 
specific  form.  We  have  not  tried  to  formu- 
late it,  as  we  have  formulated  the  doctrine 
of  the  person  of  Christ,  or  of  human  na- 
ture, or  of  the  church,  or  even  of  the  last 
things.  And  I  do  not  know  that  we  are 
trying  to  formulate  it  now.  But  somehow 
the  truth  is  here.  It  is  in  men's  thoughts, 
it  is  on  their  lips,  it  is  stirring  at  their 
hearts. 

You  may  see  the  negative  effects  of  its 
power  in  our  present  conceptions  of  the 
church.  How  small  and  petty  our  separa- 
tions and  divisions  are  beginning  to  seem, 
our  denominations  and  sects,  in  the  light  of 
that  broader  and  more  comprehensive  idea 
which  has  taken  possession  of  our  minds. 
One  must  either  secularize  the  church  as 


OPTIMISM   OF  CHRISTIANITY       213 

the  Romanist  usually  does,  or  reduce  it 
to  technicalities  as  the  ritualist  does,  to 
get  any  satisfaction  out  of  mere  church- 
isms.  We  are  all  trying  to  get  together 
on  the  spiritual,  the  ethical,  and  the  intel- 
lectual side.  We  work  together  in  sur- 
prising ways,  and  we  think  together,  or  at 
least  we  think  above  the  separating  lines. 
We  do  not  reason  any  longer  by  denomi- 
nations. We  reason  as  scholars,  or  as 
workers,  or  as  preachers.  Church  unity  is 
not  a  fact ;  perhaps  it  never  will  be.  But 
Christian  unity  is  a  great  deal  more  of  a 
fact  than  it  was  twenty  years  ago,  ten 
years  ago,  one  year  ago.  It  now  begins 
to  have  dimensions.  You  can  point  to  it. 
Anybody  can  see  it. 

But  the  special  fact  to  which  I  wish  to 
call  your  attention  is  the  courage  which  is 
taking  possession  of  the  church  at  large 
under  the  incoming  of  this  truth.  The 
courage  to  which  I  refer  is  seen  in  the 
new  objects  which  Christianity  is  seeking 
to  gain.  Christianity  began  with  the  con- 
version of  individuals.  It  has  always  been 
and  always  will  be  the  divine  work  of  Chris- 
tianity to  save  the  individual  soul.     Pro- 


214      OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

testantism  gave  a  mighty  impulse  to  that 
work,  but  it  inheres  in  Christianity.  This 
is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  courage  as  of 
patient  and  sacrificing  love.  The  courage 
of  Christianity  came  out  more  clearly  in 
the  conception  of  the  modern  missionary. 
It  was  still  the  thought  of  individual  sal- 
vation. Souls  in  heathen  lands  were  the 
objects  of  search  and  rescue.  But  gradu- 
ally the  idea  grew  and  enlarged  itself  into 
that  of  the  saving  of  the  lands  themselves. 
It  finally  comprehended  tribes  and  peoples 
and  races. 

The  present  advance  is  more  courageous 
still.  Christianity  is  now  aiming  at  the 
forces  which  make  up  civilization,  to  purify, 
control,  and  direct  them.  If  there  has  been 
any  loss  of  interest  in  missions  it  is  due,  I 
think,  very  largely  to  this  transfer  of  inter- 
est to  the  various  forces  of  society  and  state 
which  need  to  be  more  thoroughly  chris- 
tianized. Christianity  is  becoming  might- 
ily concerned  about  Christendom.  We  are 
beginning  to  understand,  we  have  been 
suddenly  awakened  to,  the  sense  of  what  I 
call  the  inevitableness  of  Christianity  as  a 
power  in  the  world.    The  Christian  nations 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY     215 

are  moving  under  an  irresistible  momen- 
tum. Nothing  can  be  so  impressive  as  to 
stand  in  the  presence  of  a  great  moral  law 
when  it  is  operating  on  a  grand  scale. 
Such  a  law  is  now  in  operation  all  over  the 
world.  It  is  the  law  which  Christ  enunci- 
ated: "To  every  one  that  hath  shall  be 
given,  and  he  shall  have  abundantly,  and 
from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  which  he  hath."  Under 
the  working  of  this  law  the  transfer  is 
now  being  made  from  lower  civilizations 
to  higher,  as  before  it  had  been  made  from 
pagan  to  Christian.  It  is  in  some  ways  a 
sad  spectacle  which  we  are  now  witnessing, 
—  old  nations  breaking  up,  old  races  losing 
place,  and  new  nations  and  races  advancing 
and  coming  upon  them,  often  in  the  spirit 
of  greed  and  competition,  to  gather  the 
spoils.  While  the  process  was  going  on  in 
Africa  we  gave  little  heed  to  it.  Now  that 
it  is  at  work  in  Asia,  on  a  larger  scale  and 
before  venerable  races  and  civilizations,  it 
is  startling  and  appalling.  But  it  is  inev- 
itable. The  law  will  work,  but  it  may  be 
made  to  work  in  Christian  as  well  as  in  un- 
christian ways. 


2i6      OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

And  now  it  has  come  to  us.  The  great 
national  and  international  question  which 
has  been  so  suddenly  thrust  upon  us,  and 
which  has  so  sobered  the  nation,  is  this 
same  question  of  the  inevitable  transfer 
of  power  from  the  lower  civilization  to  the 
higher,  from  the  less  Christian  to  the  more 
Christian.  We  cannot  escape  the  law.  We 
cannot  delay  it  beyond  its  time.  But  the 
responsibility  of  seeing  that  it  works  in  a 
Christian  way  is  our  responsibility,  like 
that  of  England  or  of  any  other  Christian 
nation  in  the  East.  It  is  this  responsibility 
which  is  now  giving  us  pause.  It  is  this 
which  sobers  us.  We  are  not  acting  in 
the  haste  or  indifference  which  comes  of 
the  spirit  of  greed.  We  feel  something  of 
the  solemnity  which  comes  to  one  who  is  a 
part  of  an  inevitable  situation.  We  begin 
to  understand  that  it  may  be  as  solemn  a 
thing  to  gain  as  to  lose,  to  be  the  one  to 
whom  it  shall  be  given  as  to  be  the  one 
"from  whom  it  shall  be  taken,  even  that 
which  he  hath." 

And  yet  all  these  changes  and  transfers 
are  a  part  of  the  problem  which  Christian- 
ity has  created.     It  has  made  a  new  world. 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY        217 

It  has  changed  in  every  way  the  balance 
of  power.  When  Mommsen  dates  modern 
history  from  the  transfer  of  power  from  the 
Mediterranean  to  the  Atlantic,  he  gives 
also  the  ground  of  the  change  which  was 
to  mark  the  moral  advance  of  the  world. 
Christianity  is  in  the  blood  of  the  races 
which  are  in  power.  And  the  courage  of 
the  church  lies  in  the  fact  that  Christianity 
is  now  beginning  to  deal  with  its  own  crea- 
tions, with  its  own  institutions  and  laws 
and  industries,  in  the  endeavor  to  set  them 
right.  It  is  a  greater  work  than  that  of 
evangelizing  the  world,  though  no  more 
sacred.  It  is  a  part  of  the  threefold  pro- 
blem, which  Dr.  Hitchcock  used  to  say 
was  always  present  to  Christianity,  —  to  j 
keep,  to  gain,  to  recover.  Christianity  has  1 
dropped  a  nation  or  a  race  here  and  there 
on  its  westward  march.  These  must  be 
recovered,  like  the  peoples  won  from  its 
grasp  by  Mohammedanism.  It  is  at  the 
same  time  seeking  the  remoter  peoples  of 
India,  Japan,  China.  It  must  still  keep 
those  in  hand,  the  peoples  of  Europe  and 
America. 

It  is  at  this  last  point  that  the  problem  is 


2i8      OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

evidently  the  closest  Christianity  is  might- 
ily congested  at  the  modern  centres,  Lon- 
don, Paris,  BerHn,  New  York,  and  the  forces 
with  which  it  has  to  deal  are  more  difficult 
to  control  than  those  which  confronted  the 
old  civilizations.  Modern  civilization  intro- 
duces its  own  forces,  having  their  seat  in 
the  market,  which  are  quite  as  strong  as 
those  which  raged  on  the  field  of  war. 
Turn  which  way  we  will,  the  emphasis  falls 
on  some  situation  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Every  form  of  spiritual  activity,  every 
method  of  material  advancement,  every 
new  movement  of  a  people  or  a  race, 
brings  the  idea  to  the  front.  We  cannot 
escape  it.  We  are  not  trying  to  escape  it. 
It  is  the  inspiring  truth  which  is  now  gath- 
ering in  the  consciousness  of  the  church, 
and  is  being  distributed  through  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  individual  preacher  to 
react  upon  his  personality. 

I  can  call  your  attention  to  but  one 
other  reason  for  the  present  optimism  of 
Christianity. 

The  tone  of  Christianity  at  a  given  time 
depends  altogether  upon  those  who  are 
most  responsive  to  its  claims.     Where  is 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY        219 

Christianity  making  its  strongest  appeal  to- 
day? Upon  whom  in  our  generation  does 
the  appeal  fall  with  the  greatest  recognition  ? 
Where  is  the  spirit  of  consecration  the 
readiest,  and  the  most  urgent?  I  should 
say  that  in  a  peculiar  degree,  and  within  a 
wide  range,  Christianity  had  laid  hold  upon 
the  younger  life  of  our  time. 

It  is  a  very  important  question  with  any 
organization,  Does  it  have  its  available 
force  within  call  ?  The  most  available  force 
of  the  church  lies  in  the  generation  which 
has  time  before  it  sufficient  for  a  given  plan. 
Movements  which  affect  the  future  of  the 
church  and  society  usually  originate  with 
young  men,  not  because  they  are  more  in- 
ventive or  necessarily  more  earnest,  but 
because  they  have  time  to  carry  them  out. 
There  is  a  manifest  awakening  to-day  in 
that  generation  of  the  church  which  has 
time  for  carrying  out  its  plans.  It  may 
be  too  much  to  say  that  plans  have  been 
formed.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  de- 
sires and  ambitions  have  been  quickened. 
I  put  in  evidence  the  various  groups  which 
largely  gather  up  the  incoming  life  of  the 
church  in  its  various  parts,  —  the  Society 


220      OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

of  Christian  Endeavor,  the  Brotherhood 
of  St.  Andrew,  the  Students'  Volunteer 
Movement,  and  the  movement  toward  Col- 
lege Settlements  in  the  great  cities,  which 
though  not  in  all  cases  distinctly  of  the 
church  is  dominated  by  the  religious  spirit 
—  these,  and  their  equivalents  in  the  differ- 
ent communions,  Protestant  and  Catholic. 
I  might  add  to  this  evidence  the  testimony, 
in  some  cases  the  unexpected  testimony,  of 
those  who  have  to  do  with  our  educational 
and  religious  institutions  as  to  the  serious- 
ness and  earnestness  of  the  incoming  gen- 
eration. I  have  no  hesitancy  in  affirming, 
within  the  limits  of  my  observation,  the 
promise  of  greater  moral  power  in  the  gen- 
eration preparing  for  action  than  is  to  be 
found  in  that  now  in  action. 

This  movement  all  along  the  line  starts 
from  the  common  principle  of  consecration, 
and  converges,  or  can  be  made  to  converge, 
toward  some  end  for  the  betterment  of  hu- 
manity. Something  of  this  result  is  doubt- 
less due  to  the  change  of  emphasis  on  the 
part  of  the  church  from  experience  to  con- 
secration, a  change  which  some  may  depre- 
cate.    It  is  but  fair  to  state  that  the  teach- 


OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY       221 

ings  of  the  church  were  formerly  repressive 
rather  than  directive,  tending  to  introspec- 
tion rather  than  to  action ;  but  that  does 
not  materially  lessen  the  value  of  the  fact 
with  which  we  are  concerned.  That  fact  is, 
let  me  repeat  it  in  another  form,  the  heroic 
is  not  far  off.  There  is,  on  the  part  of  the 
better  life  in  training,  a  growing  sensitive- 
ness to  human  conditions.  There  is  a  grow- 
ing responsiveness  to  ideals  of  duty.  Per- 
haps it  may  have  no  sufficient  outcome, 
but  if  such  be  the  result,  it  will  be  the  first 
disappointment  of  the  kind  in  Christian 
history. 

The  tone  of  Christianity  is  that  of  per- 
petual youth.  It  is  unnatural  when  Chris- 
tianity cannot  incorporate  the  optimism  of 
youth  into  its  own  optimism.  Not  every 
age  has  succeeded  in  making  this  incorpo- 
ration. Our  age  has  succeeded  in  a  mar- 
velous degree.  Its  success  constitutes  in 
a  great  part  its  religious  enthusiasm.  It 
gives  an  inspiring  spectacle.  Just  as  it  is 
pathetic  to  see  a  generation  passing  away, 
lamenting  its  unfinished  work,  losing  heart 
because  it  has  failed  in  its  plans,  so  it  is 
inspiring  to  see  a  generation  come  in  with 


222       OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

undaunted  hope,  and  with  eager  hands, 
to  take  up  its  own  tasks  and  carry  them 
on  to  a  hoped-for  completion.  The  new 
generation  may  make  no  greater  relative 
advance  than  the  old,  but  like  each  which 
went  before  it  has  the  joy  of  its  service 
and  of  its  hope. 

I  am  grateful  in  your  behalf  that  as  you 
enter  upon  this  vital  process  which  deter- 
mines the  making  or  the  unmaking  of  the 
preacher,  your  age  is  on  the  whole  with  you 
and  not  against  you.  You  must  find  your 
encouragement  as  you  look  about  you,  per- 
haps as  much  outside  the  ministry  as  within. 
I  should  not  say  that  this  was  peculiarly 
the  age  of  the  preacher ;  but  it  does  belong 
by  its  greater  incentives,  its  inspirations, 
its  discoveries,  its  responsibilities,  by  all 
things  which  go  to  make  up  its  sober  opti- 
mism, to  the  preacher  as  much  as  to  any- 
body. More  to  him  than  to  anybody  if  he 
has  the  insight  and  courage  of  a  noble 
faith. 

I  have  been  speaking  to  you  to-day 
about  the  atmosphere  of  Christianity  in 
which  you  begin  your  work.  I  believe 
that  it  is  charged  with  hope.    I  have  given 


OPTIMISM   OF  CHRISTIANITY       223 

you  my  reasons  for  my  faith.  The  gener- 
ation, as  you  are  better  able  to  feel  it  than 
any  one  else,  is  alive.  You  are  not  taking 
up  the  unfinished  task  of  old  men,  written 
over  with  failure.  You  belong  to  a  genera- 
tion which  is  taking  the  initiative,  propos- 
ing to  itself  new  methods  and  new  ends. 
You  have  the  rare  advantage  of  watching  a 
new  truth  as  it  begins  to  take  shape  in  the 
thought  of  the  church,  no  less  a  truth  than 
that  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  a  kingdom  of 
righteous  forces,  as  well  as  of  righteous  men 
and  nations.  And  you  have  above  all  the 
readjusted  thought  of  God  set  with  new 
power  to  the  needs  of  men ;  the  sovereignty 
of  God,  transformed  and  transfigured  by  his 
fatherhood;  the  cross  of  Christ  acknow- 
ledged as  the  supreme  example  of  the  sacri- 
ficial law  of  the  universe;  and  the  assurance 
of  the  divine  order,  the  continuity  of  the 
divine  working,  made  manifest  by  the  re- 
cognized presence  of  the  spirit  of  God  as 
a  universal  presence. 

This  is  the  present  phase  of  the  opti- 
mism of  Christianity,  some  part  of  which 
we  must  feel  to  be  the  preacher's.  I  do 
not  know  that  Christianity  ever  came  to 


224      OPTIMISM   OF   CHRISTIANITY 

an  age  with  a  larger  hope  or  a  better  faith. 
It  may  be  many  and  many  an  age  before 
He  shall  come  to  whom  the  kingdoms  of 
the  earth  belong,  and  whose  right  it  is  to 
rule,  but  surely  we  may  take  up  in  con- 
fident faith  and  urge  on  its  way  the  great 
prayer  of  the  Puritan  statesman  and  poet 
who  caught  the  hope  and  expectation  of 
modern  Christianity,  the  Christianity  not 
only  of  men,  but  of  nations. 

"  Come  forth  out  of  thy  royal  chamber, 
O  Prince  of  all  the  kings  of  the  earth ;  put 
on  the  visible  robes  of  thy  imperial  ma- 
jesty; take  up  that  unlimited  sceptre  which 
thine  Almighty  Father  hath  bequeathed  to 
thee  :  for  now  the  voice  of  thy  bride  calls 
thee,  and  all  creatures  sigh  to  be  renewed." 


CAMBRIDGE,  MASSACHUSETTS,  U.  S.  A. 

ELECTROTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 

H.  O.  HOUGHTON  AND  CO. 


Date  Due 


